‘Look who it fuckin is! Azzy fuckin Williams … back in town wae the boys!’

‘Yi miss me or suhin, ya fuckin bunnet?’

‘Oh aye, A’ve been missin you awright! No forgotten wit yi did tae ma fuckin burd either before yi left! Breakin a burd’s nose, ya fuckin beast.’

‘Aye well, A’d dae it again, n if you wur a real fuckin man yi wouldnae ae let yir burd git touched.’

‘A real man like Azzy Williams who smashes burds?’

‘Been smashin aw your burds fur years, ya cunt. Ask JP! Wit yi fuckin waitin fur?’ A say wae ma arms wide. Kenzie, Gunny n Briggy ir aw standin oot ae range waitin fur the big show.

‘Listen, see if yi think you n Danny ir furgotten aboot, you’ve git another thing comin, son.’

‘Me n Danny wull run yooz aboot fuckin riot like we always did.’

‘You’ve no git yir big pals Tam n Eck tae look after yi noo but.’

‘We don’t need anycunt else. We’re the tap men noo.’

‘That’s where yir fuckin wrong. Even yir younger wans work fur me noo n yir elder wans huv fucked aff. Me n ma brur ir fuckin runnin things. We’re runnin the fuckin show. Tap men … phft! Yees ir dead men walkin.’

‘Aye nae bawhair, Al Ca-phoney, you n Wee Kenzie, the Scheme Runner! N Si, yir cardboard gangster ae a brother who cannae even fight. Mon then, Matty! If yir so fuckin mental, let’s be fuckin huvin yi! The fuckin Azzy boy wull punch fuck oot the three ae yees!’ A’m ready tae fly fur him but his hand goes tae his hoody pocket n he whips oot a huntin knife, a big camouflage serrated fucker. Ma heart dis that wee fuckin leap when yi know yir beat. There’s nae contest noo n A’m fishin in ma back pocket fur ma keys rapid.

‘Wit wur yi sayin, hard man?’

‘Aye, typical fuckin O’Connor brother. Cannae even take somecunt a square-go when yir offered wan.’

‘Yir gonnae fuckin get it, Azzy. You n that fuckin Danny Stevenson ir dead.’

‘No if we git you first. Or yir fuckin brother.’

‘Yi wit?’ Matty sprints fur me n A run back tae the motor n beep the locks shut. He’s whackin the windae but A’ve started up n A’m in first gear n sinkin it. He’s stopped n is walkin back tae his motor. A stop at the end ae the street n slide doon the windae. Kenzie is smilin but he’s git a sore face n Gunny n Briggy ir standin behind him.

‘Just wait till Broonie n Big Tam find oot wit you’ve done. Yees ir gonnae fuckin get it! N you two ir fuckin scrubbed ya wee scheme-hoppin, turncoat bastards! YT FUCKIN POSSE!’

Survival of the Fittest

It’s just gone half three on Friday afternoon. The streets ir quiet noo apart fae a few weans runnin aboot. Soon the place wid come alive again, a spark ae life roon these eld streets n that eld feelin that comes wae it. We’re thrivin aff the static in the air, that spell that Friday seems tae cast on yi, banishin calm thought n reason n fillin yi wae that eld madness that’s both venom n antidote tae our current condition n tribulations.