27. Minty Throne


Whenever I see Minty I hide.
Or walk the other way.
Or pretend I’m in a real hurry.
I never am, by the way.
Minty is a nice bloke, but I don’t like him.
Can’t stand him, in fact.
Minty is a devout Christian.
He’s kind in thought and deed.
Will help anybody.
Give you his last quid.
People know this, they can smell it on him.
And they fuck him royally for every last penny.
He gets pushed around by his family, the window cleaner, plumbers, workmates, neighbours, waitresses, electricians, the lot.
But he’s one of these people who turn the other cheek.
The problem is, people aren’t slapping him.
They are butt fucking him.
And Minty pulls his arse cheeks ever wider to accommodate these people who are butt fucking him, happily letting them slip another inch into him.
That’s what is sickening.
He seems to enjoy getting screwed.
If he’s such a good Christian, why does God let all this crap happen to him?
Personally, I don’t think God likes him either.
I think he records Minty’s prayers on an answering machine, but just deletes them, without playing them back.
I realise I’m sounding very nasty and Minty sounds like a nice guy, but think of it like this.
You’ve heard of the milk of human kindness.
Well, Minty goes beyond this.
He has the condensed cream of human kindness.
Very tasty, you might think, but just like condensed cream, you have too much and it just makes you want to puke.
Minty likes to keep me informed of his latest butt fuckings.
Each time he tells me, I want to scream in his face for him to stand up for himself, fight back, tell everyone to fuck off, not to let himself get fucked.
But I don’t.
He engages conversations with an innocuous question, but cuts in with a sucker punch of his most recent screwing.
I was minding my own business.
Getting on with my work.
I didn’t see him coming.
“Hello there, Lucifer.”
“Shit! Where the fuck did you come from?”
Minty frowned. He didn’t like bad language. Rich coming from a man who likes being bum raped.
“I just thought I’d see how you were doing, Lucifer. Got anything planned for the weekend?”
“Not really, Minty. Just going to the…”
“I’m getting some work done on the house at the moment. I wish I’d never taken this plumber on. Do you know any plumbers, Lucifer?”
He’d got me. The sucker punch. There was no escape.
“No, Minty. I don’t know any plumbers.”
“Shame. The fellow I’ve got in to re-arrange my bathroom is a bit of a cowboy, I’m afraid. The prices he charges! You wouldn’t believe them. And he’s eating me out of house and home…”
“What?! He’s eating your fucking food? Why are you letting him do that?”
“He’s in the house all day, Lucifer. He’s not taking a break for lunch, he’s working through. So he helps himself to something from the fridge. Unfortunately, he quite often eats what was going to be my tea.”
“Jesus wept…”
“He did, Lucifer, and you don’t need to remind me in those terms, thank you very much. Well, I find this plumber’s work to be rather shoddy. I hate to say this, but my lavatory had accumulated a fair deposit of limescale in the bowl, due to being in a hard water area, you understand.”
“I understand…”
“Well, he assured my that this would not be a problem. He took the lavatory out, and brought it into the garden. He said it would be a simple matter of pressure washing the bowl. The problem was, when he turned on the jet of water, my toilet exploded!”
“Bloody hell.”
“I wasn’t best pleased, I can tell you. I was already late for work, and there was pieces of Armitage Shanks scattered all over the herbacious border.so I instructed him to clean up the mess and replace the lavatory before my wife arrived home. He did that, but my wife was far from happy.”
“Why?”
“I arrived home from work, and she showed me. It was quite apparent that it was not a new toilet. It was dirty! It didn’t even match with the rest of the bathroom suite! The next day I was forced to have words with the plumber. I asked about the toilet. He argued that the toilet that had exploded had not been a new toilet. ‘Where did you get this toilet?’ I demanded. ‘Out of my house!’ he replied! ‘And what are you using for a toilet if your toilet is in my house?’ I inquired. ‘The brand new one I bought at B&Q yesterday afternoon,’ he said. Ooh, I was ever so cross!”
“Come on then, Minty. What bog have you got in your house now?”
“I went straight up to B&Q and bought a new lavatory, one that would fit well with the decor of my bathroom! I brought it home, and insisted that he fit it.”
“Did you charge him?”
“Urm… I didn’t like to…”
“Did he charge you?”
“Well, yes…”
“And he got a brand new bog out of it, didn’t he?”
“That’s one way of looking at it…”
“And he’s eating all you food?”
“Erm…”
“You know what he thinks you are, Minty?”
“No, I don’t..”
“The golden tit. He can’t believe his bloody luck. He’s going to keep sucking on you till the money runs out, you know that, don’t you?”
“Well…”
“You need to sack him.”
“I suppose I do.”
“Are you going to?”
“Probably not.”
“Jesus.”
“Language, Lucifer!”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Minty.”

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One Response to 27. Minty Throne

  1. Pingback: Reprographics... - Page 7 - London Fixed-gear and Single-speed

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