I didn't really want to get in there – the music was shite – but I needed to sort things out with that cunt of a club owner who'd run off with my missus but when I got to the front of the queue, the fucking bouncer just said "Got some ID, mate?" and I thought ID be arse-fucked, 'cos I was obviously the wrong age and probably the wrong sex and when I gave him the ID, he laughed so much his lips looked like an arsehole with the tremors and he said "Better chance of getting into Fort Knox mate" so I thought I'll give you Fort fucking Knox you cunt, I'll destroy you, so I walked home and went to the fridge in the shed and got out some of the tapeworm cysts - not the pork ones or the beef ones, but the ones straight from the dog turds: the ones humans shouldn't come into contact with unless they go around eating dogshit like that scum-sucker probably does – and I made up enough caps to last for a week cut with plenty of speed and I got hold of this on-the-game dead-brained addict floozy with her skirt up to her fanny that he was bound to let in and I slipped her fifteen before with the promise of another thirty five after and told her to pass it on to the lard-faced bouncer they called Troy and I watched from a distance the next night when she whispered the password I'd given her into his ear and sneaked the caps into his jacket pocket at the door and if she did what she was told she told him it was a secret but she was sure he'd be grateful and wasn't he man enough to take the chance and that silly cow Sandra tried to stop him but he wouldn't believe her and in my mind's eye I could just see him rolling the cap between his fingers and admiring it before gulping it down with glee and I thought you'll soon be speeding now, you fuck-faced piece of shit, speeding all the way to large intestine oblivion and I checked him out every night he worked for a week and he got weaker and the worm-hooks were obviously in his gut because he pot-bellied up even further as the fluids collected in his stomach and his system tried to fight back and you could see him turning anaemic as his vitamins were sucked away from him and then a week from the day the cunt had turned me away I saw him fall over and I knew his kecks were scarred with dropped-out tapeworm segments and everybody rushed in including me and he was stiletto-trampled to potential death or blindness, and I headed for the manager's office and revenge, and I don't know how wrecked he is now but let's hope the moral of this story got into his cyst-sized brain: "disbelieve doxies delivering drugs."
Please click here for the version wherein expletives are replaced by entries from the "Dictionary of Tapeworm Life Style Substitution Euphemisms".
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