John Crace's digested read

Cape, 10.99

Danny Skinner left Kay asleep in bed and sipped a can of lager. He skimmed a copy of Alan de Fretais's Bedroom Secrets of the Master Chefs before throwing it down in disgust. Food to complement sex? Jesus, the man was a fraud.

Brian Kibby logged on. It was no fun still being a virgin, but he liked the look of the latest lassie he had created online. Maybe he had time to knock one out before starting the new job?

Irvine never could resist getting Danny to think in italics. It gae him the chance to use at least three fucks and c-words per page and to show those soft London types how hard and lairy he really was. He didnae know why he hated Brian so much, but he was gonnae mess wi his heid anyways. It was a shame that Kay had left him because he had chosen to go out on the peesh and beat up some losers rather than stay at home wi her, but he cood always gae an shag Shannon. An why's couldnae his mother tell him who his father was.

I rolled in my soiled sheets, trying to shake off the virus that's been burning within me since my Dad died. You don't know who's talking, do you? That's because I've lapsed into the first person for no good reason. Clever eh? Anyway, it's Brian.

Danny rolled himself a joint. He'd narrowed it down - his dad was either De Fetais or an American chef called Greg. He'd thought it might have been Sandy once, but he'd been out on pish with him and seen he had nae cock.

It wae time for loads more fucks and c-words. He wae gonnae get well trashed an then shag some lassie. Nothing mattered any more. The booze an the drugs didnae touch him now. They just made that shite Kibby ill. An he didnae even remember that pointless scene when he wae gang raped by De Fretais an his mates. Still De Fretais was nae his da.

Brian's organs were in meltdown. He couldn't even go to the Star Trek convention. It's because you masturbate too much, said his ma.

I need to go to America. I'll put you out of your misery quickly this time. It's Danny.

Danny hooked up with Dorothy. She were a great shag and she understood his need to find his father. But it wasnae Greg either. Still, he were glad that Brian's liver transplant had been a success. He had tae gae back to Edinburgh.

It hadnae meant to be like that. He'd caught De Fretais shagging Kay and he'd dropped the piano on they boath an killed the ponce. He had tae have the hex removed. He didnae want to go on killing Brian.

He went to see the old white witch.

- You'll have to shag me in three of the grossest pages involving sex and faecal matter if you wan tae lose the hex, she said. - Done, Irvine replied.

Why couldnae he shag Brian's sister, Caroline? She were well fit. Perhaps their love was so empyreal in nature. So shove it. I can write well if I want.

It's because you, me and Brian have the same father, said Caroline.

Brian downed a slug of whisky, climbed into the truck and gunned it towards Danny as he was taking a piss.

The digested read, digested: Dr Jekyll and Mr Fucking Hyde.

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John Crace

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