“Proxy server,” I replied, “Where is that troll.”
“Wandsworth Park Road,” she said. XXX ”
“What about my job?” the woman asked, “Why else do you think we keeps stopping him when he tries to slash his wrists.”
He looked at me, his yellow eye pleading silently, “I hate that bastard surgeon,” he said, “He should have let me die quiet.”
We slipped away, and drove home in silence, until we turned into our road, “You know,” Julia said, “He must be costing the NHS about £1600 a week for carers.”
“And he’s got a wide screen monitor,” I agreed, “But a beer bottle up his ass?”
“Start with a carrot and work up,” she suggested. “Oh,” Julia replied, “OK.”
She went round to flat 5A, she knocked on the door, “Excuse me,” she said as a scruffy elderly lady answered the door, “Are you an Internet Porn Troll?”
“Harold,” the woman shouted, “You
