We then congregated at one of our hangouts, a mesto called Lil Willy's, for some spiked chai and to see what else be happening this nochy. The place had great homebrewed tea with the right amount of vellocet to get one all limbered up for ultra-violence. We had plenty of cutter to toss around and we enjoyed cakes and meat pies whilst slooshying the music playing throughout the bar. We were fair enjoying the sophisto-looking chellovecks what had been giving us the eye when this ptitsa we knew, a puta, came flouncing in complaining all gromky and slammed her pieces of golly down on the table. She was sporting blue hair and mostly see-through platties and I knew who she was.
"Oi Lucy-girl," I called to her. "What's got your knickers in a twist?"
"Joe's all up-in-arms over my take for the night. I tells him most of the bratchnies are either home or at the bar getting synthmesc with no time for in-out, in out. Sodding wanker." She glurped down the spiked rum that had been set before her.
"What a nazz," Lori remarked once she viddied the shiner Lucy was sporting. Her brown skin always had this funny tint to it in the wonky lighting of Lil Willy's. Sometimes I find meself just staring her long neck and skinny arms covered in that rich dark skin. Me, I'm pasty white as I come, no doubts there. I wouldn't be surprised if I didn't blind some veck driving down the street with my shiny paleness someday.
"We can...have a little talk with him if you like," I offered. The putas, the women of the night, always ponied up pretty polly anytime we needed it, and in return we like, sometimes took care of various matters for them.
"That'd be right choodessny of you, love," she says and looks at me with tired grateful eyes. I don't know what to do when people look and act like that, makes me feel weird.
So I and my droogs were now on a mission, so after tearing Mil away from her mounchies we were on our way. We would pay a bit of a visit to rent-man Joe for old Lucy. We had ourselves a little stroll to the corner of the building Lucy stays in, which you guessed it readers, was in a more than usual run-down section of town. Lodging could be got at weekly, daily or even hourly rate. Sure enough we found the malchick hounding one other of his ptitsa of the nochy lodgers. I ittied over to him all swagger-like, which catches his glazzy. "Wellanow," he begins. "You lot don't look like the trash what comes usually walking across me doorway."
"Indeed not, you merzky buffoon thou," I tell him heartily, whilst tap-tapping my special umbrella on the ground.
"You'd best watch your rot, little girl," he said, with his tone changing to less-than-friendly. "I'll put you to work servicing the firegold drunkheads."
"We come on Lucy's behalf," I tells him. "You've been a cheap old bratchny with her, tolchocking her around like an old dog."
"Oh? And what's it to you?" The sly sod's eyes darted to a few places closeby, so we readied ourselves for a bitva.
"You see, thou merzky thuggee, she helps keep us in our synthmesc and fine platties," I smile at him. "So what affects that, affects us, my brother."
"C'mon, lads!" he calls. "Let's see if these malenky devotchkas can bleed for us."
Sure enough, three burly vecks appear as if from nowhere, clutching lengths of pipe. Mordering a war-cry, Shiv full on rushes Joe who swings a length of chain at her neck. She throws up a long arm and catches it, then sticks him in the side with her blade. In the meantime I had me rookers full with one pockmarked, ugly pyahnitsa coming at me with a switcblade. He shived me in the upper arm which got me good and snarling for some ultra-violence.
Mil and Lori were laughing and playing with the other vecks, then I heard some trash bins being knocked over. Mil had tumbled gulliver-over-ass in the midst of the bins with a malchick struggling, then Lori had broken her attacker's arm leaving him creeching and boo-hoo-hooing.
I sidestepped ugly veck's charge and tolchocked his gulliver but good. He stumbled and faceplanted on the pavement. I came up behind, put one boot on either side of him, caught my umbrella under his shiyah and pulled.
"Had enough, Joey-boy?" Shiv taunted, her boot heavy on his throat. Ugly sod had went nighty-night from not enough air to his useless brain so then I released him and went over to kick Joe.
After some more persuasion, we beat it back to Lil Willy's for a nightcap. Lucy was a mite happier, and her friends all bought us drinks. We parted ways before I ventured to the tattoo parlour, brothers and sisters, as that was where my dear malchick Davey had his haunts. He was a few years older than I, and was always a good time when I needed some loveydovey.