'The towering menace, GORGEOUS GEORGE!'
It's hard to believe that only recently George was knocked out by a Pikey bare-knuckle boxing champion and hospitalised. Now, he looks as good as new.
'He is fat and slow, but incredibly fucking fast.'
Gorgeous George looks to me one last time, then he's up for the fight.
The name's Turkish. Funny name for an Englishman, I know. My parents to be were on the same plane when it crashed. They named me after the plane.
Gorgeous' fists went flying. He was a big man, but not a slow one. Far fucking from it.
Smack!
Whack!
Bam!
His opponent was much slower. Actually, like a fucking turtoise.
Wham!
Smack!
Gorgeous gut punched the motherfucker. Blood spat from his mouth and dribbled down Gorgeous' face.
Smack!
Ring!
Round two.
'Gorgeous stop fucking around. You got a fight to win.'
The bell starting round two and the two sweaty bodies knocked the bollocks out of each other.
Smack!
Wham!
The fat fuck on the other side took a dive. He sat there for five seconds sucking dust and then made an effort to stand. He stood.
Wham!
He didn't stand anymore. Probably for the next couple of weeks too.
Blam!
Bang!
Rat-tat-ta!
Gunfire filled the air. Gorgeous was riddled with bullets, then lined in chalk. Tommy, my partner, took a dirt nap too. I just dived under the fucking van and behind the wheel rim.
You're probably wondering how the story goes from a bare-knuckle boxing, which my man Gorgeous won, to a bloody shootout leaving two of my men dead.
The pain streaked through the recipient's body. He started convulsing. A pool cue to the eye does that to people. Blood not only leaked from the wound in his eye, it pissed like a fucking waterfall.
'You fucking prat,' Errol whispered at the sorry cunt tied to the wall, with a pool cue in his eye. 'What part of "you have outstanding debts" do you not fucking understand?
Errol thought he was the big dick. Ever since Brick Top took a shot to the face. Somehow, Errol was left, in the long run, unscathed after the Brick Top/Pikey situation. He was thought dead, but a bullet merely knocked the bugger unconscious. Now he's running his own little business and taking in profits from Brick Top's previous bare-knuckle boxing business.
'Take him away,' Errol commanded. Two henchmen dragged the convulsing bloody pulp that was once a human out of the room. 'So, boys,' When Errol said that he meant us two. Tommy and I. 'There's that fight on Saturday. I want it rigged. Gorgeous George goes down in the second.'
'Gorgeous George wins by knockout in the second round.' We sat with Mickey. Yes, Pikey Mickey. The same Mickey who hospitalised Gorgeous George. We heard that first part clearly, 'cause it wouldn't happen. We didn't understand much of what he said next. '.Boxing.means.a lot.me.' That's what we did understand. We figured the Pikey had found his passion in bare-knuckle boxing. Errol will have our balls. The Pikey mumbled something about protection and money. We had to think it over.
Much happened and the Pikey turned up to the bare-knuckle fight. So did Errol.
Gorgeous' fists went flying. He was a big man, but not a slow one. Far fucking from it.
Smack!
Whack!
Bam!
His opponent was much slower. Actually, like a fucking turtoise.
Wham!
Smack!
Gorgeous gut punched the motherfucker. Blood spat from his mouth and dribbled down Gorgeous' face.
Smack!
Ring!
Round two.
'Gorgeous stop fucking around. You got a fight to win.'
The bell starting round two and the two sweaty bodies knocked the bollocks out of each other.
Smack!
Wham!
The fat fuck on the other side took a dive. He sat there for five seconds sucking dust and then made an effort to stand. He stood.
Wham!
He didn't stand anymore. Probably for the next couple of weeks too.
The fight started and ended.
Gorgeous won, we left. Mickey kept us at the Pikey campsite until Errol didn't want to kill us.
'20 grand,' the man in black said to the mullet.
'Dell.dan,' the mullet Pikey replied.
The shook hands and both left.
Errol walked on directions. Walked to the Pikey campsite.
'Pepper them all,' Errol whispered to his comrades.
'The Pikeys too,' One man asked.
'No, you silly fuck.'
'I fucking hate Pikeys.'
The men walked into the campsite. Shotguns held up. With the most amount of espionage.
Turkish and Tommy walked out to their van.
The men crept. Shotguns cocked.
Chik chak!
I thought I heard something.
'You hear that, Tommy?'
'Yeah, sounded like a fucking shotgun.'
Turkish and Tommy came into the men's view.
'Sounded like a fucking shotgun.'
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Bodies fell. Blood was sprayed.
'Ya har semthin'?'
You hear something?
'Sands lek footstaps.'
Sounds like footsteps.
The two Pikey guards looked around.
Chik chak!
'Sands lek a fucking shatgun.'
Sounds like a fucking shotgun.
That's when the two Pikey guards saw them. Creeping like fucking spies.
'Yeah, sounded like a fucking shotgun.'
The Pikeys shot. Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Four dead men lay before the Pikey guards, Turkish and Tommy.
'Fuck me, Tommy, they nearly blew our bollocks off.'
The bollocks were the least of my problems. Just keeping calm. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Gorgeous came outside to see the fuss.
Blam!
Bang!
Rat-tat-ta!
Errol and his men mowed down Tommy and Gorgeous.
I dived behind the wheel rim.
'Pepper them all,' Errol whispered to his comrades.
'The Pikeys too,' One man asked.
'No, you silly fuck.'
'I fucking hate Pikeys.'
Errol left that team and headed around the back with his other team.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
The first gang went down.
Errol, surprised, went to plan B.
'Kill every-fucking-one of them!'
'I fucking hate Pikeys.'
We stood looking over the dead men.
Errol jumped us from behind.
Blam!
Bang!
Rat-tat-ta!
Gorgeous and Tommy went down. Blood splashed over my face.
Now, I'm fucked.
Blam!
Bang!
Rat-tat-ta!
Gunfire filled the air. Gorgeous was riddled with bullets, then lined in chalk. Tommy, my partner, took a dirt nap too. I just dived under the fucking van and behind the wheel rim.
Errol smiles and cocks his shotgun in my face.
I'm well and truly fucked.
It's hard to believe that only recently George was knocked out by a Pikey bare-knuckle boxing champion and hospitalised. Now, he looks as good as new.
'He is fat and slow, but incredibly fucking fast.'
Gorgeous George looks to me one last time, then he's up for the fight.
The name's Turkish. Funny name for an Englishman, I know. My parents to be were on the same plane when it crashed. They named me after the plane.
Gorgeous' fists went flying. He was a big man, but not a slow one. Far fucking from it.
Smack!
Whack!
Bam!
His opponent was much slower. Actually, like a fucking turtoise.
Wham!
Smack!
Gorgeous gut punched the motherfucker. Blood spat from his mouth and dribbled down Gorgeous' face.
Smack!
Ring!
Round two.
'Gorgeous stop fucking around. You got a fight to win.'
The bell starting round two and the two sweaty bodies knocked the bollocks out of each other.
Smack!
Wham!
The fat fuck on the other side took a dive. He sat there for five seconds sucking dust and then made an effort to stand. He stood.
Wham!
He didn't stand anymore. Probably for the next couple of weeks too.
Blam!
Bang!
Rat-tat-ta!
Gunfire filled the air. Gorgeous was riddled with bullets, then lined in chalk. Tommy, my partner, took a dirt nap too. I just dived under the fucking van and behind the wheel rim.
You're probably wondering how the story goes from a bare-knuckle boxing, which my man Gorgeous won, to a bloody shootout leaving two of my men dead.
The pain streaked through the recipient's body. He started convulsing. A pool cue to the eye does that to people. Blood not only leaked from the wound in his eye, it pissed like a fucking waterfall.
'You fucking prat,' Errol whispered at the sorry cunt tied to the wall, with a pool cue in his eye. 'What part of "you have outstanding debts" do you not fucking understand?
Errol thought he was the big dick. Ever since Brick Top took a shot to the face. Somehow, Errol was left, in the long run, unscathed after the Brick Top/Pikey situation. He was thought dead, but a bullet merely knocked the bugger unconscious. Now he's running his own little business and taking in profits from Brick Top's previous bare-knuckle boxing business.
'Take him away,' Errol commanded. Two henchmen dragged the convulsing bloody pulp that was once a human out of the room. 'So, boys,' When Errol said that he meant us two. Tommy and I. 'There's that fight on Saturday. I want it rigged. Gorgeous George goes down in the second.'
'Gorgeous George wins by knockout in the second round.' We sat with Mickey. Yes, Pikey Mickey. The same Mickey who hospitalised Gorgeous George. We heard that first part clearly, 'cause it wouldn't happen. We didn't understand much of what he said next. '.Boxing.means.a lot.me.' That's what we did understand. We figured the Pikey had found his passion in bare-knuckle boxing. Errol will have our balls. The Pikey mumbled something about protection and money. We had to think it over.
Much happened and the Pikey turned up to the bare-knuckle fight. So did Errol.
Gorgeous' fists went flying. He was a big man, but not a slow one. Far fucking from it.
Smack!
Whack!
Bam!
His opponent was much slower. Actually, like a fucking turtoise.
Wham!
Smack!
Gorgeous gut punched the motherfucker. Blood spat from his mouth and dribbled down Gorgeous' face.
Smack!
Ring!
Round two.
'Gorgeous stop fucking around. You got a fight to win.'
The bell starting round two and the two sweaty bodies knocked the bollocks out of each other.
Smack!
Wham!
The fat fuck on the other side took a dive. He sat there for five seconds sucking dust and then made an effort to stand. He stood.
Wham!
He didn't stand anymore. Probably for the next couple of weeks too.
The fight started and ended.
Gorgeous won, we left. Mickey kept us at the Pikey campsite until Errol didn't want to kill us.
'20 grand,' the man in black said to the mullet.
'Dell.dan,' the mullet Pikey replied.
The shook hands and both left.
Errol walked on directions. Walked to the Pikey campsite.
'Pepper them all,' Errol whispered to his comrades.
'The Pikeys too,' One man asked.
'No, you silly fuck.'
'I fucking hate Pikeys.'
The men walked into the campsite. Shotguns held up. With the most amount of espionage.
Turkish and Tommy walked out to their van.
The men crept. Shotguns cocked.
Chik chak!
I thought I heard something.
'You hear that, Tommy?'
'Yeah, sounded like a fucking shotgun.'
Turkish and Tommy came into the men's view.
'Sounded like a fucking shotgun.'
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Bodies fell. Blood was sprayed.
'Ya har semthin'?'
You hear something?
'Sands lek footstaps.'
Sounds like footsteps.
The two Pikey guards looked around.
Chik chak!
'Sands lek a fucking shatgun.'
Sounds like a fucking shotgun.
That's when the two Pikey guards saw them. Creeping like fucking spies.
'Yeah, sounded like a fucking shotgun.'
The Pikeys shot. Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Four dead men lay before the Pikey guards, Turkish and Tommy.
'Fuck me, Tommy, they nearly blew our bollocks off.'
The bollocks were the least of my problems. Just keeping calm. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Gorgeous came outside to see the fuss.
Blam!
Bang!
Rat-tat-ta!
Errol and his men mowed down Tommy and Gorgeous.
I dived behind the wheel rim.
'Pepper them all,' Errol whispered to his comrades.
'The Pikeys too,' One man asked.
'No, you silly fuck.'
'I fucking hate Pikeys.'
Errol left that team and headed around the back with his other team.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
The first gang went down.
Errol, surprised, went to plan B.
'Kill every-fucking-one of them!'
'I fucking hate Pikeys.'
We stood looking over the dead men.
Errol jumped us from behind.
Blam!
Bang!
Rat-tat-ta!
Gorgeous and Tommy went down. Blood splashed over my face.
Now, I'm fucked.
Blam!
Bang!
Rat-tat-ta!
Gunfire filled the air. Gorgeous was riddled with bullets, then lined in chalk. Tommy, my partner, took a dirt nap too. I just dived under the fucking van and behind the wheel rim.
Errol smiles and cocks his shotgun in my face.
I'm well and truly fucked.