“Fucks sake!” I cursed but well, where else was I getting laid, like the bible basher said, churlish to refuse, so that why I was at it with a fifty something granny as the train rolled through Corrour and Rannoch, the most pointless fucking stations in the middle of fucking nowhere you ever did fucking see. XXNX “Right, waste of fucking time then?” I suggested. “Glencoe,” Fforbes corrected. “We ought to be getting back,” I says. “I thought,” she said. “Right,” I agree. “Ought to nick the fucking headstone,” Al said reasonably, “Least we could do.”
“Write fucking cunt across it,” I suggested, “Carve fucking pedo in it.”
“What’s this lads,” PC Tony Mulholland asked as he staggered by on his way to the bogs, “Planning on nicking a headstone?”
“Fucking Saville’s,” I said, “Wanker.”
“Been fucking done already,” Tony says, “Too fucking late.”
“Have to dig the cunt up and
