Everywan laughs. There’s nae shame in pullin a tidy, if the burds kin take yi serious it means yir a decent cunt.

The sky looks aw moody n red cos the snow. The woods in this pitch-black wid normally huv been pure solid tae walk through but the ground is completely white n lights the path through the skeleton army ae trees. Ma Rangers scarf is right up over ma mouth n nose against the cold, wae ma hood pulled up. Everywan is banterin away like mad, passin beers n wine bottles among ourselves. A’ve drank ma two beers n aboot a half bottle ae wine on top. A’m feelin mad-wae-it n ready fur anyhin. We walk the path right up tae the end ae our woods n the start ae the golf course then jump the wee burn. The golfy is completely white n untouched. A winter-green flag comes wae us, like the battle standards of eld Scottish warriors.

We march on towards the lights ae the scheme ahead. Our feet ir muddy n soaked through fae the half-foot ae snow on the fairways. We pass the clubhoose n enter the next set ae woods. The big woods tae the north ae the course ir our territory but the light wooded areas tae the south n east ir theirs. Soon as yi pass the fairways, bunkers n greens n enter the other side, yir in a foreign land. The Toi’s boozin spots ir behind the row ae trees n a squad ae them usually hung aboot there. Soon as we enter their unfamiliar woods, the atmosphere changes among us. Aw the laughin stops n cunts ir lookin aw business. The trees aw look different here, mare crooked n unfamiliar in the dark n less like our wans back across the open expanse ae the course. The banter fades n the volume drops tae a whisper. We aw know where we ir noo. Uncharted territory, the badlands. Bandit country.

Soon as yir oot the trees, the Toi’s scheme begins wae the first row ae big spikey metal fences surroundin a block ae rundown flats. They huv red ash gardens wae nae grass n a single washin line hangin across it wae weans’ toys scattered among the weeds. Beyond that is a labyrinth ae side streets n windin residential areas wae as many potential wrong turns as dead-ends. There’s wan block ae high flats n the rest smaller wans wae closes n bright red doors wae clear windae panes n security buzzers. The first sight tae greet yir eyes is a ramshackle n derelict community centre. Y TOI is spray-painted aw over it n aw their stupit names anaw. A big massive MATTY Y TOI, followed by YTB, DIV, TOI BOIZ, IRA 1916, SI, JP, O’NEIL, ALLEN, UDA, 1690, FTQ n ANTI SCREW CREW. There’s another ominous message ae WELCOME TO HELL, just tae raise our spirits as we enter their area, deep behind enemy lines. We aw hope fur a massive gang fight n maybe part ae yi, deep doon, hopes we don’t see a soul.