"Swan," Ah sais real nice, but the cunt's no haevin' me.
"Yir tab's late, sir, and overdue." he almoost spits ontae me, "I doon't suppose ya've got a wad on ya?" Ah looks tae the cunt, and his vein's almoost poppin outae his head. Ah search mah poakits. Luck had me this fine day. Ah pull oot a roll of starchy lookin bills, and Ah no can count them befoor he takes it up like a hungry dog.
"This'll do nicely," he smiles rabid now, like the cunt's goat trasure now. He puts it intae his oen poakit and slips away. And good thing, too, Ah wis about tae get eerie quick tae square go. Ah look aroond while he prepairs it. It's a mess again, but I can't say anythin. Ah know my house is the same fuckin thing. The Mother Superior return with the syringe full ae love, and Ah tek it like thair's no other. Because thair isn't.
"One intravenous injection fir you, sir," he remarks in a snide tone, but Ah know he's happy now with the wad. Ah tek the syringe, placin it nicely oan mah vein. Ah sucks up some of the blood, and push it back in, nice and slow. The Swan leaves me, and Ah enjoy mah own, slow death.
Eggs and bacon wi toast? Nevir. Always smack.