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Chapter 14 ~~~~Operation Nietzsche~~~

**** Lei slapped Horace across the face and brought him back to his world of persecution.

‘That’s enough small talk’ he said to Horace.

‘Nodding at the torturer he signalled the second rope to be brought into action.

The torturer who had dispensed with the Balaclava stared at Horace.
He would give him a rough introduction to the world of pain. A grim smile passed over his non existent lips. Horace looked up and saw a noose.
‘Good God!’ I am to be hung?’ Horace thought before realising his big toe on his left foot was about to become an anchor point. He recoiled in revulsion as he saw the previous big toe of the barman still swinging from the ceiling beams. A ghastly fleshy ****** toe which was evidence of extreme malice.

Pulling him to his feet, **** Lei ordered the binding on Horace to be cut off him.

‘I am sure your legs could do with a little stretch, don’t you think?’ he said to a horrified Horace.

As Horace was prepared and freed from his chair and bonds, he was led to the torturer. As he was brought forward an almighty explosion rocked the warehouse. The upper windows were blown in and smashed like confetti on those below. A siren screamed from the building’s BMS system.  The room filled rapidly with tear gas and a dense smoke screen. A sound bomb erupted simultaneously.

All of the Snakeheads were thrown into momentary confusion. **** Lei’s first instinct was to get out of the place. He acted immediately upon that self preserving gut for survival. So in fact did the rest of the wrecking crew.
Even they knew this was a professional occurrence.

**** Lei with his torturer in hot pursuit ran to the parked Porsche outside the warehouse.

Driving away from the scene rapidly **** Lei cursed the air blue.
The torturer had no idea what he was saying but he knew the operation was in danger.
Thank the Gods he thought to himself that at least he had got to work on one of the victims.

‘**** it! **** it ! screamed **** Lei
‘So it’s ******* true. The ******* Skinhead has paramilitary connections.
‘Who the **** are these people? Was Horace some unlikely Mr Big?’
‘Mr French must be a senior player or was before the woman shot him in the *****’ he thought
‘Why not an arm or leg wound?’ She shot him with a clear purpose. To shut him up’ he thought further.

**** Lei’s mind raced as his car accelerated into the night.

In the warehouse, Horace was trying to get his **** out of there. His legs and arms wouldn’t function. The chair and binding had impacted his circulation.

Whatever happened he was grateful for his deliverance.
Then just as he crawled towards an open hole in the building he felt something hauling him to his feet.  It was a well worn leather gloved hand. It grabbed him by the scruff of his hair and reefed him. He was thrown into a wall. His face smashed on impact.

How often had he warned people ‘I will put your ******* head through the wall’. Now it was karma enjoying itself.

He was unconscious immediately and a woman hauled him over her shoulder and brought him to a waiting van. Horace was flung in unceremoniously and the door slammed closed behind him. The van drove off into the night and Harold was precious cargo for another encounter with the Blitzkrieg.

Chapter 15  ~~~~~ Confusion at the Precinct~~~

‘Sir, the preliminary report is ready for you’

Inspector Figgis looked up from his desk at the young man facing him.

The report was handed to him as two other detectives came into the room.

One of them, Mr. Black, waited for a moment. It came sooner than he expected.

‘What the hell is this? Figgis roared.

‘Call this a report?!’ There’s nothing in it!’ It reads like a boys own yarn for ***** sake! Answer me! Give me the update in plain language’


Mr Black waited a very brief moment.

‘ It’s unclear sir. There was a major occurrence at a warehouse in the Misery Hill district. An explosion sir. Not accidental’

‘Terrorist?’ Figgis interjected

‘Not certain yet, sir’

‘Go on’ Figgis said

‘Well three people have been removed from the scene’
‘One of them is dead sir’

‘Man or Woman?’ uttered Figgis

‘Man, Sir’

‘We think he fell foul of an underworld power struggle’

‘Why do you think that?’ the Inspector said

‘We found this in his pocket, sir’
‘It’s a missing person notice but it’s not official. Still it does refer to quasi military and paramilitary military groups’

‘Really, which ones?’

‘Unspecified, sir’

Figgis looked at the document. A skinhead’s face was on it.

‘Do we know this skinhead?’ asked Figgis

‘Presently being checked sir’

‘Anything else about the victim?’

‘It may have been a ritual slaying, sir. He was shot clean through his ***** and bled to death’

‘Also, another man has been found sir. Heavily traumatized and presently sedated and presently in intensive care sir’

‘What happened him?’

‘He has been brutalized, sir. Taken a right maulin. He will need major nose surgery and a massive skin graft’
‘He has been flayed close to the point  of death’

‘When he’s able to talk I want to speak directly to him first’
‘Take a note of that!’

‘Yes sir!’

‘The third person?’ Figgis  said then

An embarrassed silence momentarily filled the room.

‘A young boy sir’ ‘ half starved and malnourished’

‘He has been through the mill, sir’

‘What do you mean?’

‘His tongue has been severed from his mouth, sir’

‘Good God!’

‘An eye of his gouged out’

‘What?’

‘One ear missing, sir and the other ear in tatters.

‘Anything else?’

‘Yes sir’

‘Well?’

‘We found him in a crate that was marked ‘Small  Belly Enterprises’

‘It’s a registered charity company with links to the local Legion of Mary’

‘That’s preposterous’ Figgis roared

‘Which part, Sir?’

‘All of it for ***** sake!’ It’s ******* unbelievable!’

‘Give the press a cover story. A drugs bust gone wrong. Whatever you like but not this fiasco. We need to get to the bottom of this quick.

‘I want the Small Belly set up examined in minute detail’ roared Figgis

‘Yes, Sir’

The office door closed. Figgis looked at the fake missing persons report. Cecil looked back at him.

‘Who the **** are you then?’ Whatever is going on I bet you are a big clue to the whole thing’

Then he lit a cigarette and winced his eyes.

‘Shot through the *****?’ He shuddered and poured himself a neat drink.

It was early morning. Some late night shift workers coming home noticed the front door of the Kip was open. In fact there was no door.

One of them stepped inside hoping for a quick tipple.

‘Hello!’

Silence responded.

There was no one about. The place was the worse for wear.

He walked back out.

‘Bleeding Kip!’ he roared

In James Hospital the barman was breathing through a tube.

The nurses were gathered in a corner whispering

‘I’m telling you! There’s nothing left of his ****. It will be years before he ever sits down again.
His nose is a disaster zone’

Young ******* was placed with a social worker.

It was hard to say which of them was the most bewildered.
Chapter 12 ~~~ Uproar in the Kip~~~~

A tall, tough looking man approached **** Lei as he got out of Porsche.

‘Good afternoon, Sir’ he said to **** Lei

My name is Harold French. My business is tracking missing people.
As he handed his business card to **** Lei an uneasy atmosphere settled in the College car park.
As he presented his card it was accompanied with a missing person flyer.

Stunned and caught off guard **** Lei threw an eye over it.

Missing - Cecil Bolger
———————————
The public are asked to search their memories and recall if they have noticed this man. Last seen on Denzille lane in the vincinity of ‘The Pearl River’ Chinese take away.

He was wearing the same clothes as in this recent photograph.
A red cotton shirt, denim jeans and jacket, a pair of Doc Marten  ox-blood colored boots.

His name is Cecil Bolger, a notorious criminal with strong links to underworld quasi -military and paramilitary subversives.

Be aware as he is highly dangerous and usually armed with a stainless steel or tungsten steel chain. His disposition is towards violence and the public are asked not to approach, if seen, under any circumstances.

His family have expressed concern and the Local Legion of Mary have asked for your prayers. It is uncertain what links Mr Cecil Bolger  has with the Legion and this line of enquirer is being pursued.

Distinguishing features are a broken nose, and a tattoo on his left arm stating ‘Warrior’ in Chinese lettering.

Please inform your local police task force at this number 6667776969 if you have any information regarding Cecil’s whereabouts.





**** Lei was thinking on his feet and responded

‘Unfortunately I am unable to help you Mr French. I do not recognize this young man.
Inwardly **** Lei was in a rage. ‘That ******* Skinhead is a subversive? Is he? ‘ he thought
‘I better advise the senior command and get word to I **. This could be trouble’

As he thought it he said
‘ I have a lecture to present. Please excuse me”

‘Certainly, I will call to your premises ‘The Pearl River’ to discuss further if you have time please.

‘No, that won’t do, **** Lei replied

‘We are far too busy to meet you’

‘We?’ said French

‘I mean I am,  Mr. French

‘To be honest with you, this is no concern of mine’

‘Isn’t it strange, said French , that Mr Bolger was last seen near the Pearl River’ ‘Aren’t you the owner?’

**** Lei was getting agitated now. French was becoming an irritant.

‘Actually Mr French, why don’t you come around to the Pearl River tomorrow evening. Chicken curry on the house and a complimentary glass of wine too. We can discuss further in my office. Perhaps my staff have seen this young man’

‘Excellent! responded French

**** Lei made his excuses and entered the college.

French got into his Ford Cortina and drove off.

‘Has he taken the bait?’  said a passenger

It was Horace. Cecil’s uncle.

‘******* sure he has! said French

‘Good man Ballcrusher’ responded Horace

‘Mr French? How do you think them up’ ‘you ******* lunatic!’

‘Not only that, said Ballcrusher’

‘Free chicken curry tomorrow night and wine reception at the Pearl River’

‘You jammy *******! roared Horace as they burst out laughing.

‘Where now? said the Ballcrusher

‘The Bleeding Horse!’ replied Horace

‘That Bleeding Kip? You’re joking?’

“I have business there’ Horace said

The Ford Cortina pulled up outside the Kip.

‘Let him know you’re my man, Ballcrusher’

‘You better ******* believe it, Horace’

As they entered the Kip, Ballcrusher ducked to get under the door.
He was a monster and a former Rugby head basher.

The barman saw them coming. He look worried and was flush in the face. Horace hesitated but didn’t know why.

‘Gentleman, please sit down’ said the barman obviously very agitated.

‘Drinks on the house’

The barman did his best to give Horace a warning but Ballcrusher was too eager to assert authority on behalf of Horace.

He planted an unmerciful boot into the barman’s manhood.
Horace cringed. As the barman dropped, a voice called out from behind the bar.

‘Hello, Piledriver, remember me you ****** *******?’

Horace nearly passed out. He was about to command the Ballcrusher to kick her teeth down the back of her throat.

Adalwolf Wolf was ahead of him though and expected resistance. Her gun was loaded and aimed at the two of them.

‘Now ,Mr Boot in the *****, shall we see how your own ***** fare out against a bullet?

‘Perhaps you, Piledriver? Fancy becoming a ****** ?

The barman came too in time for Wolf to step her stilletto into his new prosthetic nose. The screams were horrific.

‘Now, she said, Where is the ******* Skinhead?!’

An ambulance siren wailed outside and passed by. Horace had hoped it was the cops.

‘Sit down, we have much to discuss’ Wolf said

A crowd of people walked in then.

‘Get out! she cried

‘We are closed today’

A voice came from the dejected crowd.

‘I ******* told you! It’s a  ******* Kip!’

‘Bleeding Kip!’

The door was locked then. The barman wanted to warn Horace to watch out for the head grab. His ***** were on fire and he passed out momentarily.

Wolf looked at Ballcrusher.  ‘You have picked the wrong pub my friend’

Then she shot him in the *****. Horace shook for all he was worth.

Ballcrusher collapsed beside the barman. A satisfied grin passed over the barman.

‘Now, Piledriver!, she said to Horace

‘Where the **** is the Skinhead?! Her gun was pointing at his manhood. His stomach churned as he looked at Ballcrusher. He didn’t look like he would survive his first encounter with the Blitzkrieg.

The door of the pub burst in then. It came crashing down with a violent fury.

**** Lei had contacted the local Snakeheads and all had followed the Ford Cortina. As they burst in, their machetes were cutting the air.

The air was saturated in Cantonese war cries.

The barman burst out crying.Things were not going well for him. Had he known of his coming ordeal he would have prayed for death on the spot.

Horace turned back around in the confusion. He looked for Adalwolf Wolf. She was gone!

It was Horace against the Snakeheads.

‘For ***** sake! he shouted as he went under


Chapter 13 ~~~~ The Great Game ~~~~~

There it was in the corner. A consignment of crates all marked ‘Small belly Enterprises’. Horace had awoken in a warehouse. Had it not been for that consignment he would not have known where he was.
He glanced briefly around him. Hadn’t his crew and him broken into this place recently. They deliberately left the ‘small belly’ consignments alone. They were Horace’s after all. This always caused confusion with the warehouse owners.

He ached all over and his head was a weight of pain. Hie arms and legs were tied and he was seated.
The Ballcrusher was slumped to another chair. His legs were matted in blood. Horace whispered ‘Ballcrusher’ ‘Are you okay, mate?’
A dim light flickered and Horace noticed that the crusher’s face was pale as a ghost. ‘****!’ Horace thought. ‘He’s ******* dead’.

A whimper startled him then. It was the barman.
‘What the ****?’ said Horace

There was the barman - hanging upside down and suspended from the ceiling beams by a rope. His left big toe was the tethering point.

The barman was naked and his back had been flayed. His **** was red raw from the whip of some mad *******. He was half conscious and occasionally twirled on the rope. It was a grotesque, macabre vision. His nose was an open wound. The hair a mess of matted blood.

‘What the **** is this?’ thought Horace trying to hold his panic down.

His forehead broke into a bead of sweat.

Another sound caught his attention. It was a low wheezing noise.
Then he saw him. The guard. Out for the count on a reclining couch.
A shirtless mad looking ******* with the honed physique of a trained martial artist. His face was a map of scars.
A blooded whip lay beside him. A paring knife beside the whip. Handcuffs and balaclavas.

Horace was looking at a trained torturer at rest from his handiwork.
‘How long have  I been under’ Horace thought

He was ****** and he knew it. Messing with the wrong people always comes back to haunt you. Here, in this warehouse, were an army of ghosts.

An hour passed and at all the times Horace had kept an eye on the torturer.

He started to awaken and made for his balaclava.

‘Don’t ******* bother putting it on you ******* *******!’ Horace roared in a misjudged air of bravado.

The torturer looked at him and the sight was a terror to behold.
Hie left eye was a clouded hue of red, obviously blind, and his lips were non existent. As if he had been scorched in a chemical tank’

‘Actually, put it ******* on you ugly *******!’

Then Horace laughed because he thought he was better than any comedian anywhere

The torturer, masked now, at all times had not responded. Horace didn’t know it but the torturer was stone deaf.

‘That’s right, Horace screamed, thinking he had unnerved the torturer because of his lack of response.

‘I will ******* do you in and all your ******* mates!’

‘What’s the matter! Is there mud in your ******* ears?’

The torturer came over to Horace then.

‘****!’ Horace thought. ‘The ******* not backing off’

Then the torturer picked up a petrol can and gave Horace a light shower.

Standing back from Horace at a safe distance he lit a cigarette.

Then he lifted his Balaclava to half mast. Pulling in the cigarette he exhaled in little swirling smoke rings.

Horace’s heart sank. The ******* are going to pull a Joan of Arc. They’re going to light me up like Blackpool towers, ****!’
It was all too much. Horace wanted to get the hell out this hell but he was tied to a ******* chair.

Preparing himself for death he decided to go out with a cry of defiance but the words that left his lips were ‘******* CECIL!’

Then everything went into slow motion as the torturer flicked the cigarette into Horace’s lap. The ember landed and spread like a disease. He was about to become an inferno. The flame ignited on contact with the petrol.

Horace screamed like a baby and suddenly he was drenched in a torrent of water.  He had been placed beneath an industrial safety shower. He was put out before he had taken fully alight.

A roar of laughter erupted from behind him. It was **** Lei.
Three others were with him to enjoy the torture session.
Horace looked at **** Lei.

‘So Mr Nietzsche, I don’t see anything super about you’ **** Lei said

Thinking that was a good line he allowed himself a little personal laugh.

‘You have crossed the line with me, Horace’

‘Have a look at your friends, do they look like they are enjoying my gracious benevolence?’

‘They are my guest’s Horace and shall enjoy my hospitality’

The barman became fully awake then. Suspended from the ceiling like a light bulb from his big toe. He was in dire agony.

He screamed in terror. Horace and the barman looked at each other.
It was a knowing look that said ‘we’re ******’

The barman let out another frustrated scream. His big toe was killing him with torment. His flayed  back and **** suddenly made itself noticeable to his brain.

Another scream was unleashed.

**** Lei looked to the pleading eyes of the barman. Then **** Lei looked and nodded to the torturer.

The whip hand of the torturer was put to work and he laid into the barman. He flayed the back, the legs, and the bare **** off of him.

The barman passed out and still he was whipped.

Horace looked on in terror.

The Ballcrusher remained slumped in his chair.

Suddenly the barman regained consciousness just as the whip flayed his **** again. Screams ensued and were terrifying to hear.

Horace didn’t know what to make out of his situation.

‘Enjoying my hospitality, Horace?’ **** Lei said then

A roar of guffawing and laughter filled the warehouse.

The barman swirled from the rope as his **** was tattered.

Horace looked on in terror. Where was Cecil when you ******* needed him?

**** Lei looked at Horace and enjoyed provoking him.

‘You will never see the Skinhead again, Horace’  he said

‘As for Mr. French? He has no ***** to speak of’. This was followed by a manic laugh from **** Lei.

‘No, your friend has shot him in the ***** and ended his days, Horace’
‘You will tell us where she is and who she is?’

Horace couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was stunned into silence.

‘Yes, **** Lei continued. Whatever subversive group is harboring your female friend, we will find her too’

‘Subversive?’ thought a puzzled Horace.

Then he remembered the fake missing poster of Cecil. ‘Ah, ****! he thought. That was all made up to scare **** Lei.

What would he tell **** Lei? That Cecil was your everyday ****.
A skinhead who enjoyed booting you up the hole for pleasure.
No, **** Lei wouldn’t believe that now.

‘I see you are contemplating not telling me all you know, Horace’
‘Such a pity?’ **** Lei uttered with sarcasm.
‘My torturer is tired whipping the **** off your colleague”

‘Perhaps he needs a fresh **** to whip?’

Still Horace uttered not a sound.

The torturer received a nod from **** Lei. On that signal he pushed the barman around in circles and whipped the back, legs and what was left of his **** off him.

The barman screamed like a beaten hyena.

Then he lashed the whip at Horace inches from his face.

‘Yes, Horace, you will be begging them tell me all you know’
‘And I will know, in time, I will know everything’.

A sudden gush of water, a deluge of ice cold water, flooded Horace’s head then. The safety shower had been brought into use again.

Horace had a weird thought process. ‘At least they can’t set me on fire’ he thought. I am already put out’.

Then Horace laughed. It was a demonic laugh and it frightened **** Lei and the others.

Why would he laugh if he were not possessed or mad which in some quarters is the same thing.

‘Laugh, Horace, while you still have teeth’ he said to push the fear back into him.
The torturer was given a nod. He had pulled a pair of plyers front his kit bag.

‘Horace was about to scream. Then another flush drowned his efforts.

All in the warehouse were laughing like the Devil’s companions.

Inside a crate, marked ‘Small Belly Enterprises’, was one singular eye looking out through a knotted hole in the seasoned timber.
It was young *******. I ** had arranged to ship him out of China through the Snakeheads network. He wanted rid of him but was afraid to **** him. ******* had been born under an eclipse of the Sun. This to I ** was a sign the Gods favoured young *******. You can play with the Gods but you cannot thwart them.
There was young *******’s eye looking at his new adopted family terrorizing a fat old ******* and some poor swine hanging from his toe.
******* couldn’t scream as he had no tongue. He dared not whimper. Just then the flesh around the barman’s toe sheared and he plummeted to the ground.
This startled everyone who didn’t expect that the happen. The barman landed on his face and took the full impact where his nose used to be.

The torturer who thought he was being attacked layed into the barman and lashed him with every bit of vengeance he could muster.

Horace passed out. Young ******* passed out.
Only the **** Lei’s wrecking crew took this as a sign of great merriment and laughed at the torturer’s antics.

In the rafters though, well hidden, and keeping a close observance on all that had occurred was a vicious woman.

Adalwolf Wolf saw it all and bided her time.

Horace didn’t know it and least of all the Snakeheads but the Wolf was not a lone wolf. The whereabouts of Cecil the Skinhead was of interest to her and her masters.

Horace had become an unwitting pawn in a great game.
Join Cecil the Skinhead as he ventures to the South China Seas.
On his journey he takes on the notorious I **, the dreaded gorilla pits of torture and menace, and unwitting Chinese pirates.

He will encounter a fellow Englishman known as the Born Again Judas, young ******* and many more villains and Council estate heroes on his epic adventure.

Not for the faint hearted or those with a nervous disposition towards a cup of strong tea and a crumbly biscuit. You have been warned.



~~~~ Chapter one - A chicken curry too far~~~~

**** Lei saw Cecil coming in. He stood out in the Main Street with the swagger in his ****. It amused him to see the Skinhead swinging his chain. At tea in the evenings when **** Lei  breathed in the narcotic *****  fragrance of his drug he would laugh at the clothing this Skinhead wore. Twice he had come into The Pearl River premises. Each time he had ordered a chicken curry with extra onions and fried rice and then stared at **** Lei whilst the food was being prepared.

**** Lei was fluent in English and even ****** English so he had sized up Cecil immediately. It was best with this type of **** to play the stereo type and speak pigeon English.

‘So, your curry ready now. Please enjoy’

Cecil would return the compliment with the ten yard death stare.

Tonight was different. Cecil came straight out with his demands.

‘Here’s the telephone number of the Fire Brigade’ snarked Cecil throwing a crumpled piece of paper into **** Lei’s face.

‘Why I need, please?’ he replied completely unperturbed.

Cecil pulled the chain out and lashed into the menu proudly displayed beside a beautiful gold-leafed mirror and smashed them to pieces.

‘Tell the owner I’ll put a flame thrower to this kip! I’ll burn it to the ground if he doesn’t pay me two grand a month protection money’

‘Do ye bleeding understand that?

Cecil swirled the chain a few times in front of **** Lei to let him know his life was in danger.

Now **** Lei was the owner of the premises and simply said
‘Please, no trouble, owner here tomorrow seven thirty’
‘I tell, okay’

**** Lei was university educated, highly literate and a deadly practitioner of Gung Fu. He could easily have said

‘Why don’t you ****** off old chap while you can still breathe?’

Cecil amused him though and he was curious to see how he would go about the extortion.  Unknownst to Cecil, The Pearl River was a front for the deadly Chinese Snakeheads. The worst kind of people traffickers.

‘Good man! Cecil replied ‘ Tell him from me the curry is brutal while you’re at it’

Next evening Cecil walked in with the chain in his hands and the Doc Martens gleaming. He looked at **** Lei and said ‘where’s the little *******’

‘Ah, little ******* inside office waiting to meet you’ replied **** Lei

‘Please to come in’

Cecil wasn’t a big thinker. It never occurred to him that he could be the victim. As soon as he stepped in there was fifteen serious looking lads with machetes staring at him. None of them were smiling.

‘What the **** are you all looking at? Cecil roared

The light went on in his head then.

‘Well ******* too! Cecil roared suddenly realizing and pulled his chain.

It was a close call as one of the gang lopped off the top of his ear.

**** Lei, unknownst to Cecil, wanted no deaths tonight. He wanted Cecil taken out, placed in a wooden crate, and sent to his cousin in China.
He had plans for Cecil. Otherwise Cecil would have been dead in the opening ‘Gerrrrrupppppp ye bleeding *******!’

To be fair to him he cracked six heads before he was overwhelmed and cracked on his thick skull. This would come back to haunt him very soon.

Cecil woke up the next day and felt queasy. His head throbbed with unbelievable pain. It was pitch black and the motion of his abode was uneasy. He could smell fresh timber and sea air.

He tried to stand up and found he was contained.

‘What the ****?’ In panic he reached into his inside pocket. Thank God! his chain was there. Further exploration allowed him to determine he was in a crate. He didn’t know it but he was headed to the South China Seas where on arrival in Fujian there would be a welcome party.

‘I’ll ******* do your heads in! Cecil roared

‘I’ll be ******* dug out of ye! Ye shower of bleeding *******!

‘Let me ******* out’

After a while he settled and awaited his fate. Hang about he thought.

I’ll light a smoke and see where I am’

Then he thought ‘**** no! The Chinese love firecrackers and he was sure he could smell gunpowder. How right he was.

**** Lei and the gang broke their faces laughing that night.

‘Wait till he gets to China and meets  I **.

Even as they laughed, Cecil the Skinhead was seething and ****** cold, hungry and fed up. He dug deep into his psyche and swore he would pay the Chinese owner back in spades. On the ship lolled into the dark damp night. Cecil the Skinhead was on his way to China and huge trouble.

~~~~~Chapter 2 - Hazards on the High Seas~~~~~

Sixteen days had passed and Cecil had lived on insects that crawled into his crate. Once a day a tube was inserted into the crate which poured out water. It stayed in place for three minutes twice a day.

He had to be broken and know his place. Before he had realized it was his only source of drink, the tube had nearly gouged his ear canal and woke him up from a slumber. He was drenched and stinked of the foulest odors that ever offended a pair of nostrils.

He was in poor shape and whittled to feather weight division. It is a testimony to his mindset that he hadn’t cracked up. A beard had grown considerably and his hair was a mop. Being a proud Skinhead this infuriated him.

As if it were a divine deliverance the crate was opened on the seventeenth day. At five o’ clock in the morning, not that time meant anything to Cecil. A curious face looked at him. A hard face which didn’t hide the contempt felt for Cecil. Another time and in better circumstances Cecil would have headbutted the swine on first sight.
He was knackered though and his arms and legs not quite wasted but definitely diminished. Even so he was lithe and retained considerable muscularity. He was a natural athlete.

Three other guards were standing over him and one of them brandished a whip.

Pulling Cecil from the crate they immediately tied his hands behind his back.

A scream erupted from one of guards and put them all on alert.
Cecil had chomped into his ear and took a lump out it. He was ravenous and cannibalized his meal in one swallow.

This was repaid immediately with a vicious blow to Cecil’s nose which caused severe damage and knocked him out.


He woke up stripped and tied and his beard had been shaved. His head too. The deck hands and crew all staring at him.

He was disgusted and found it in himself to roar

‘Gerrrrrrrrrupppppp ye bleeding *******!

He got ready to unleash some further profanities. Before he could do so a boot in his **** sent him over the side. Cecil was keel hauled three times and pulled back onto the deck spewing sea water.


‘Ye bleeding shower of *******! Cecil roared.

A young man approached him and looked him in the eye.

Cecil looked curiously back and for his trouble received a well placed boot to his naked manhood.

Doubling over in agony,  he turned green in the gills. He was immediately lifted to his feet and clattered across his right ear. ‘Sweet Jesus! Cecil roared in anger. This was the very ear that had been lopped in the Pearl River premises.

His head was ringing with pain. A blood curdling scream emanated from him and frightened the deck hands.

‘Arrrrrrrrrrggggggggggghhhhh! Gerrrrrupppp ye ******* *******!

He immediately passed out. Hours could have passed by as Cecil had no notion of time. It had only been five minutes and they all thought he had died.

Mouth to mouth had been given to Cecil urgently. If I ** found Cecil had died in transit, then it was a death sentence for those responsible.

Pao looked on in terror. He was the ship’s captain. He had been warned that Cecil was to be broken not murdered.

Cecil was still alive though to Pao’s immense relief.

Smiling at Cecil he shouted at him ‘ You little *******!
Then a flurry of Cantonese followed.

‘You lost me at *******’ Cecil answered and burst out laughing.

He laughed like a demented lunatic but there was nothing mad about Cecil. This beating had invigorated his warriors soul.
He thrived on combat and deadly conflict.

The crew were frightened of him and thought he was a demon.
Who could take punishment like this and laugh?

Cecil was taken below deck and permitted to dress in his jeans and red shirt, denim jacket and precious doc martens. It was an unsaid thing. A code of honour to a warrior. He was at sea. He hadn’t a bulls notion where he was going.

Make peace with the enemy for a while he thought, till he figured a way out. Yeah. Making peace always confused the hell out of your enemy.

Incredibly he was permitted his precious chain. His respect and street cred had blossomed after all the Chinese had put him through.

The Captain had brought Cecil into his cabin and rice and vegetables were presented to him with some nice wine.

‘******* deadly’ Cecil said.


The Captain had noticed a tattoo on Cecil’s left arm when he had been keelhauled.

It was a snarling dragon. An underlying word, in Chinese lettering said ‘Made in China’.  This was the tattoo artists revenge on Cecil who had threatened him to do it for free.

He had told Cecil it was Chinese for ‘Warrior’. Cecil was chuffed and boasted about it down at the local pub. No one spoke Chinese there so he was never to know.

The captain knew though and was confused.

He couldn’t speak English so he asked Cecil by pointing to his own arm and showing his snakehead tattoo.

Cecil got the message.

‘Ye mean the old tattoo?’ he said chuckling

‘That’s a dragon. It means Warrior! But you must know that’

‘You better ******* believe it’ he said further

‘I am a ******* Warrior. The cream of the Skinheads’

The captain just nodded and hadn’t got a clue what Cecil was on about.

Cecil demolished his meal and felt alive. He was coming back a bit.
He even thought about taking the skull off the captain with his chain but he was at sea. Wait till they land he decided.  Then he would break every one of their miserable backs.

Smiling at this thought he was about to grab a fifth glass of wine when an almighty explosion rocked the ship.

Cecil’s first thought was ‘the ******* gunpowder! ******* hell! I was in that poxy crate!’

More explosions followed and screams of terror came from the deck.

The captain ran up the stairs in blind panic and Cecil followed in quick pursuit.

That’s when he saw it. Another ship with a red flag and crossed skull bones on it. Cecil knew what it was from the flag.

‘ Pirates! ******* deadly!’

It was time for battle! He would put his lot in with the pirates and start clearing the decks.


Cecil pulled the chain out. It swung through the air with a deadly hum.

Then it came. The warriors battle cry!

‘Gerrrrruuuuuuupppppp ye bleeding *******!

The captain wet himself and his stomach churned as he turned around to witness Cecil in fighting form.

Cecil had the countenance of a wounded bulldog. His eyes were lost in the violence about to unleash. A huge crack broke the air as the chain met the captains skull.

Then, joy of joys, who should run past him screaming in terror only the cabin boy. The very same lad who had dropped Cecil with a kick to his manhood. The cabin boy was horrified and knew it was coming. A well placed Doc Marten was planted into his *****.

The screams that followed from the cabin boy were pitiful to hear.
Cecil finished him off with a chain blow to the forehead.

He was unstoppable and loving it. The adrenaline was lighting him up. The Chinese had never seen anything like it.

On the deck of the boarding pirate ship a young woman, the captain and pirate queen, watched in awe as Cecil cut a deadly swathe through her enemy’s crew.

The sounds of heads splitting open tore through the carnage.

‘Gerrrrrrrrrrruppppppppp ye bleeding *******!

The blood flowed in torrents. Cecil was loving it.

Ching Shih, the pirate Queen, looked on in bewilderment. Who was this man with the shaved head?

‘No one dare harm the warrior! she screamed

‘Clear the decks and make him welcome’

‘I want to meet our new friend. Bring him to me when the battle is over’

It would be twenty more beautiful minutes before the ship was secured. Cecil kept the chain swinging at all times. He worked his Doc Martens hard and the body count kept going up.

Cecil, the cream of the skinheads, was about to become a pirate and go down in Chinese Legend.

~~~~~~~ Chapter 3 - Enter the I ** ~~~~~~

I ** prowled the dungeons searching the faces of those hanging upside down and chained to wooden stakes. Many were dead and would remain there as a warning to the newly arrived combatants.

He noticed one of the combatants had a tattoo on his chest, a crusaders cross, and was whispering to himself.

‘What is he saying?’ I ** demanded from the girl pouring water into his victims nostrils for amusement.

‘He is saying God will deliver him. He is a crusader for Christ and shall not die at the hands of the barbarians’

I ** roared out laughing and bent down to look into the crusaders eyes.

‘I will release you to the pit’ he said

‘There my gorilla will determine if your God will deliver you’

Another laugh echoed through the dungeon.

‘cut him down!’ and bring him to the pit!’

The girl, who had been enjoying her handiwork, was disappointed and bowed low to I **.

I ** knew loyalty and dedication when he saw it.

‘Wait! he commanded to the guards

Looking down at the girl he said ‘ you have found favour with I **’

‘You may pour one more dose of water into his nostrils’

The crusader continued to chant and writhed in terror as his nose became a sink.

The chant became a gruesome gasp for survival and I ** and the girl smiled and looked on in contentment

I ** was looking for warriors from the West. There was huge money in the gorilla fights. No one had yet beaten his prized possession. A lowland silverback gorilla.

I ** had deliberately starved the gorilla before every fight. Some had shown incredible bravery and ingenuity in their combat methods.
Others had been pulverized on first sight. Some had died of sheer terror when the gorilla was revealed to them. None had ever lived.

Standing over the pit, the crusader looked down to see a creature that was in no mood for an intrusion into his private life.

Two other men stood beside him and I **. A knowing look met their eyes. I ** was a vicious *******. A descendant of a former Samurai who had betrayed his traditions and assimilated into the ways of his former enemies. No one trusted him but he proved to be lucrative in his methods.

Money followed I ** and he led a charmed life. An evening is his company was an event and big money changed hands to see the gorilla fights and afterwards the allure of his women to rub their backs and imbibe them with wine and watch over them as they inhaled the *****.

I ** had a black history and had invested major money in the Pearl River Chinese take away in London. He was an honorary member of the snakeheads. Rumours has reached him of the Skinhead known as Cecil who was fearless in his ways. This intrigued him.

Perhaps this skinhead would be a worthy opponent for the gorilla and if he lived, who knows then perhaps the Skinhead could become the main attraction in the pit and draw in bigger money than the gorilla.


For now the crusader stood on the edge of the pit and the looked down at the silver back.

With incredible faith in the ways of God, he cried out!

‘My Lord and my God!’ and jumped of his accord straight into the pit.

This startled the trio and I ** took delight in this. It startled the gorilla also as it was used to the smell of fear. There was a smell though as the crusader stunk to the high heavens. His body odor was an offense against humanity. The gorilla hesitated. Even an animal is wary of stale food.

As the gorilla looked at the crusader and deliberated, a stunned I ** took this as a sign that the crusaders God was with him.

This thought crossed his mind and was immediately cancelled by the screams of the young girl who slipped and lost her footing.

The same girl who had delighted in pouring water down the crusaders nostrils.

Being a working ***** she was duty bound to be clean at all times in case I ** wanted some extra curricular activities to his days agenda. She smelt beautiful and being slim and fresh of flesh was an ideal snack for a starving gorilla.

Down she fell into the pit and the gorilla caught her. The scream was brief as it ripped her head off and smashed it into the pit walls.
The blood was pumping from her torso and slaked by the beast.
It is a testimony to the crusader that he stood motion still and continued his chant ‘ God will deliver me’

The sated gorilla had no interest in him and munched the young girls arm.

The men beside I **, who had paid handsomely for this evening, clapped their hands and roared their approval.

I ** ordered a rope to be thrown to the crusader. As he was pulled up, I ** gave him a kick in the teeth to assert his authority.

The men cheered enthusiastically at this and smiled at I **.

‘Now gentlemen, you will be my guests when I throw the crusader once again into the pit.

Tell your friends! If they have the money they will get into the pit room’
‘Tonight you will agree has been a good one’

Then he planted a boot into the crusaders proverbial.

‘Take him away and clean him up! Give him food and clean clothing’

Our crusader has shown the spirit of the warrior.

I ** had plans for the crusader and this unfortunate incident with his loyal girl might pay further dividends. Perhaps it could be arranged for other girls to slip into the gorilla pit as an added feature.

I ** was pleased with this.

‘Now gentlemen! wine and women to finish our night!’

The crusader was about to cry out  ‘God will deliver me! but a guard punched him in the throat.

I ** burst out laughing at this.

‘That’s it now! Leave him be!’

‘What shall we do with the gorilla sire?’

‘Let him finish his meal then starve him again for the next encounter’

I ** thought then about this skinhead warrior  he had been informed of.

‘Where was he?’

I ** didn’t know it yet but Cecil, the cream of the skinheads was on the South China Seas in a pirate boat and being revered as a hero.

Very soon Cecil and I ** would exchange glances at one another.
For now Cecil was lashing back the wine and loving his life.


~~~~~~~~Chapter 4 - Born Again Judas~~~~~

The crusader was brought to new quarters and given his first bath in six months. He had impressed I ** and the word was out on his incredible leap into the gorilla pit. Many underworld figures had since  approached I ** and wanted a ringside seat at the next gig.

I ** was in his element and the money was paid over in copious amounts. Thirty people would be admitted and perhaps witness once again the crusader’s mad leap into the jaws of death. Could he pull off another miracle?

Perhaps he would drug the gorilla to ensure the crusader won but decided against it. Those admitted were Snakehead high lords. Any corruption or attempt to thwart the Gods would be a death sentence for I **. He didn’t fancy his chances against the silver back.

He had already picked his next ***** out for the gorilla’s desert as an added attraction for the high lords.

Yu Yan was beautiful to behold and a natural at gouging eyes. It was a pity as she had served I ** well in the torture pits.

She approached him unsuspectingly with his ***** pipe.

‘Ah, Yu Yan, my precious jade emerald. Come closer to me and let me see your smile’

Yu Yan sat beside her master and rubbed his shoulders.

‘You will honour me by attending the next gorilla match with the crusader’

‘Yes, my Lord I **’ she replied and bowed her head

A small crippled boy walked in then

‘Master I **?’

‘Yes? What is it young *******?

Young ******* was an illicit offspring from one of his many wenches. At his birth an eclipse of the sun had occurred. I ** took this as a sign that young ******* was destined for great things.

He was an ugly kid with bad alopecia and a club foot. His two eyes met in the middle and one of his ears was mysteriously missing.

Such was the way with the Gods thought I **. Young bastardos fate was at one with the heavens.

‘Father? Is it true the crusader jumped voluntarily into the gorilla pit and lived?’

I ** flew into a rage and clattered ******* on his only ear.

‘Never call me father! you little *******!’

‘I am your Lord I **!’

Clapping his hands in a violent gesture he ordered Yu Yan to take him away.

‘Put him in the room with the crusader!’

I ** never admitted to ownership of a child with a *****. This was beneath him. How dare young ******* call him father.

Bawling his eyes out and taken by the hand with Yu Yan, ******* reeled in terror from the gaze of I **.

‘Wait!’ bring him here!’

I ** approached ******* and looked at his crimson red ear. It was starting to cauliflower.

Suddenly and with great malice I ** gave young ******* another unmerciful blow across his ear.

******* passed out from the shock.

He was taken to the crusaders quarters and thrown unceremoniously through the door.

The crusader looked at him and kept his distance.

‘What in hell’s name was going on?’ he thought

‘How did he get to this place?’

He was out of his depth and struggling to cope with his dire situation.
His real name was Tommy Cromwell. A devout ****.
Brought up by an abusive Anglican father, he was an eager Christian.
He had his own version of religion since his dad had beat the crap out of him. He had turfed him out that fateful Christmas Eve when he was sixteen for adding his own thoughts to the family bible.

Tommy got it into his head that God had chosen him for a personal mission. He sat for two months in his bedsit in total isolation from society and decided to  form his own cult.

He would be the only member. That’s were Jesus slipped up, he thought. Too many in the circle. He was disgusted with Judas.
His father had said it was preordained. It had to be Judas who betrayed Jesus. That didn’t sitright with Tommy though. Poor Judas got the short religious straw.

He would redeem Judas! he thought. His new religious order would be the ‘Order of Judas’ and he would be the only member.
From that moment on he would be a born again Judas.
No one would betray him then.

The tattoo parlour had been open late that week. He had got a red crusaders cross emblazoned on his chest. He grew his hair long like Jesus. He worked out and built his body to a honed physique. His six foot two lithe frame was intimidating. It was the mission that would drIve his life.

He would spread the gospel of Christ to the heathens.

All was going well until he stepped into the premises of ‘The Pearl River’ takeaway for a chicken curry.

All eyes had looked at him.

His tattoo stood out.

**** Lei, the owner of the Pearl River took his order and asked him to sit down.

‘Peace be with you, my friend’ said Tommy

This was a good chance to practice his gospel.

‘Jesus loves you’ said Tommy further

**** Lei  replied ‘ Thank you, please come into office for free glass of wine’

**** Lei had already decided the tattoo on Tommy was an additional bonus. He would tell I ** this westerner was a crusader.

Being a naive young man, Tommy gladly accepted the drugged wine.

He had awoken in a crate. There was a smell of wood and gunpowder. The route across the South China Seas had brought him to the terror pits. He was brutalised and tied upside down to a stake.

His belief in God sustained him.

Young ******* awoke then and screamed when he saw the crusader.

It was more of a screech. Tommy the crusader was at his wits end.
He noticed *******’s only ear and gave it an unmerciful box that knocked the screecher out.

Then he held *******’s ear and prayed for his recovery.

‘I need to think’ the crusader thought

Raising his hand to heavens he cried

‘Hear your servant, O Lord!’

‘Deliver me from heathens and gorillas!’

‘Sustain me through my ordeal’

The Born again Judas offered up his prayers.

A gorilla slept easy in the ****** pits that night and awaited his next meal. I ** was in an ***** induced stupor. ******* was nursing his only ear.

All was quiet in I **’s world but the crusader was about to upset his plans.

Chapter 5 - ~~~~~The Prodigal Son~~~~~~

The Crusader lay down on the straw mat upon the floor.
He had been unnerved by the gorilla. Offering up a prayer to God, he thanked the Almighty that the ***** had fallen into the pit.

‘I know it was your doing O Lord of the Hosanna’

‘My work is in your hands. Give my hands the strength to strangle that gorilla when next we meet. Failing that, please let another heathen fall into the lap of the beast’

He was worn out and fell asleep with exhaustion.

The next morning he felt unburdened. Empowered by his encounter with the mysterious forces of God.
Perhaps it was God’s plan to release the beast from I **’s lair?

Was I ** to be converted to the spirit of Christ?

He remembered his father’s words

‘Get the **** out of here and don’t show your face again until Christ has cleansed your soul’

This was an unusual declaration from a man of the cloth.

What did he mean by this?

Those opening words. Were they a prophecy?

He ran them over again in his mind.

‘Get the **** out of here’.  Behold! he thought

I am now somewhere else. Was his father in this with I **?

He was an unwanted prodigal son.

At times, during his time spent at the dinner table discussing scripture, he had felt close to his father.

His father spoke in mysterious tongues.

Once he had asked him ‘Father, blessed father, if I was to behave like the prodigal son, would you **** a fatted calf for me and place me at the head of your table and embrace my return’

‘Tommy, his father replied, shut the **** up and read your Deuteronomy ‘

Is that what his father was trying to tell him. His answer was to be found in that book?

He read it inside out but it was cryptic and contained no words of love for him that he could decipher.

It would be fair to say that Tommy was slow in getting the message not to bother his dad.

His thoughts were gathering a storm in his brain.

An image came to him as he recalled his beloved mother.

‘Mama, you who know the word of God and have studied scripture as though you were a gospel writer, do you love me? As much as you love God.


His mother never even raised her head from the early edition of the ‘News of the World’

He tried again.

‘Blessed Mother, Am I marred by the mark of Cain. Unwanted and to be banished from your midst?’

‘You better ******* believe it! Now shut your mouth and read your Book of Revelations”

Tommy was an eager student. He read it immediately.

Only when he was versed in the Bible would he understand fully the love his parents had for him. He must search for their answer in the word of God.

He wondered about his parents then. Were they still in the local church telling all who searched for salvation that God was on their side.

Even as he thought this, his father said to his mother

‘Any sign of that obnoxious little swine’

‘No, she replied. Haven’t heard or seen sign of him since you threw him out’


‘Shall we notify the police? said his father

‘Are you out of your mind?, she replied

‘After what he wrote in the Bible about Judas? That blasphemous little *******’

‘Of course, my dear! What was I thinking?

Tommy thought then that his parents must be very worried about him. He was sure he had been reported as a missing person.

He would be found and brought home to his parents worried arms.

He would be as the prodigal son was.  Tears would flow upon his return.

All this he thought and was disturbed then by a sound.

It came from the closet. It was a muted incomprehensible sound.

It made no sense. Like an animal.

‘This it it!’ said Tommy

‘A test or a sign from God!’

Slowly and cautiously he opened the closet.

There was young *******! His tongue had been cut out and the severed tongue lay nailed to the inside of the door.

Never again would he call I ** ‘Father’

******* lay whimpering and the unutterable sound started to grate on the crusader’s nerves.

He looked at the ear of *******. It was crumpled and cauliflowered.
Still the whimpering continued. Tommy started to get a headache so he planted a boot into *******’s ear and told him to shut up.

Then he closed the door just as Yu Yan walked in with his breakfast.

An interpreter was with her.

‘My gracious guest ‘Crusader’

‘After your  morning breakfast, our Lord I ** will greet you in his quarters’

‘You have found favour with Lord I **’

Then he was alone with his breakfast.

‘God in heaven! he cried

‘You are with your crusader!’

‘You truly work in mysterious ways’

He offered his thanks to God and prayed for *******

A whimper came from the closet then

‘Shut the **** up!’ roared Tommy

He gave the door an unmerciful boot and ******* got the message.

All was quite again.

He savored his food and readied himself to meet I **.

******* wanted to cry out but feared for his life and the remnants of his only ear.

I ** stretched in his quarters then picked up his Samurai sword.

His attendant had forgotten to bow in his presence.

A severed head flew across the room. All those present immediately bowed for all they were worth

A chant filled the air

‘Praise be to Lord I **! and everyone bowed and kissed the floor

‘ I hope Lord I ** is a man of God’ thought the Crusader

‘Perhaps we can break bread together’


~~~Chapter 6 - On Guard ~~~~

I ** sat on his throne and looked down on the bowed heads assembled before him. To the great relief of those on their knees, he clapped his hands signaling their dismissal from his presence.

The decapitated head lay on the floor unable to move. It fixed a gory gaze upon I **.

Yu Yan escorted the Crusader in to the ceremonial quarters and I ** looked upon him.

Tommy noticed the severed head as he approached and instinctively gave it a boot. It’s presence had offended him and he thought it was a warning from I ** to intimidate him.

It sailed past the shocked face of I ** and his bodyguard sliced it in two as it did so.

The bodyguard looked to I ** for the permissive death gesture.

I ** held his hand up in refusal and the bodyguard sheathed his ****** sword.

Yu Yan had blanched at this disrespect in the presence of I **.

Why hadn’t she shackled his ankles? I ** gave her a reassuring glance that all was well.

The interpreter was knocking her knees and her guts rumbled for all they were worth.

Tommy looked up with pride in his efforts.

‘Is this the head of John the Baptist?’!  Tommy shouted

‘What ***** has performed the dance macabre for you?’ he said further

I ** looked to the interpreter. She knew **** well not to give a direct response.

‘My Lord I **! she cried

‘The crusader has denounced the enemy at your feet. How dare a severed head lie in your exulted presence. It has offended him that your venerable abode has been stained by its presence in your greatness’

I ** looked to the crusader in amazement

‘Tell him he has found further favour with I **’

The Crusader looked at the interpreter

‘If you value your life, you will smile and bow graciously and do not pull a stunt like that again’ she said
‘My Lord I ** has power of life or death over you’

Tommy thought it over and bowed with a smile

‘Bring him to me!’

All approached with great trepidation except Tommy who was in awe of the spectacle of obedience.

The bodyguard glared at Tommy and had I ** not forbidden it, would have ran him through with his sword.

‘You have pleased me Crusader with your courage’

‘You shall honour me by wearing this uniform when next you face my gorilla’

The interpreter translated for all she was worth

‘You will wear this uniform as if your life depends upon it when next you battle the gorilla”

There it was a thirteenth century crusader’s uniform and sword.

Tommy looked on in disbelief and fell in love with it.


He picked up the sword and gave it a swirl. He caught the bodyguard off guard and lopped his ear off.

The bodyguard screamed in shock and pulled his sword.

‘No! roared I **

‘The bodyguard put his sword back and looked sorrowfully at his severed ear listening from the ****** ground.

‘Why have you done this? demanded I **

The interpreter’s stomach churned and she relayed to Tommy his precarious position.

‘Tell My Lord I **, if I had wanted to I could have killed him. My God has spared him in thanksgiving for his gracious kindness in bestowing me the honour of the Crusaders uniform’

‘Tell him further that his bodyguard is inept and needs replacing’

The interpreter responded to I ** word for word and waited.

I ** bowed with respect for the Crusader. Having done so pulled his Samurai sword and severed the bodyguard’s head in one swift blow’

It rolled to the feet of Tommy and he gave it an unmerciful boot sending it flying down the hallowed hall of I **’s quarters’

The interpreter passed out

I ** looked at Tommy and burst out laughing.

Yu Yan laughed for all she was worth

I ** clapped his hands and the meeting was ended

Tommy was brought out to the I **’s gardens of peace and allowed to walk the scenic pathways. Food and wine was prepared for him.

He was an intrigue to I **.

Some hours later Tommy was brought back to his quarters.

He was tired from the abundance of wine and food.

He settled down to have a short nap.

A noise came from his closet and disturbed him.

Not again! he thought

‘Be on guard’ he said to himself

Opening it cautiously he beheld young *******.

He now had only one eye. The handiwork of Yu Yan under I **’s orders.

His eye lay in a glass jar looking at Tommy. A leather eye patch lay beside the jar.

******* looked at Tommy but knew not to whimper. His ear was fearful of another assault

Tommy was perplexed. Who the hell was this?

Why was he sharing Tommy’s quarters?

Closing the door and ignoring ******* he knelt in prayer.

‘Lord, high in the heavens! Thank you for this day!’

I ** was in an ***** induced state. The gorilla fight was in two days.

It would be a glorious contest and bring I ** further acclaim.

Chapter 7 ~~~~ Gorilla in their midst~~~

Yu Yan was a light sleeper. The House of I ** was a treacherous abode.
She knew allegiance and loyalty to I ** was a fleeting wind in his world. At any moment she could suffer his ire if any inadvertent error on her part offended her master.
It had been difficult for her to gouge out *******’s eye and cut his tongue out. Her maternal instincts had rebelled against the act but if I ** commanded it then it was an order that must be obeyed.

******* had been wary of her since she relieved him of his eye and tongue. She noticed he cowered upon her approach and knew the bridge to reconciliation would be arduous and long. It puzzled her as to why his ear had not healed since she had last looked upon him.

Food was a necessity and her orders were to keep ******* in the closet and ensure his nourishment was maintained. I ** wasn’t a cruel man. He would not let ******* die of starvation. Nor would he totally blind him.

‘No’ she thought. Lord I ** had shown great mercy by permitting ******* to live. Perhaps in time, I ** would embrace young ******* and get him new quarters. For now he was banished to the broom closet.
Yu Yan reflected on the interpreters gossip about the crusader.
The warrior had confided in her that he was a prodigal son, an outcast from his fathers eyes. His God had taught him that a Father could embrace the wickedest of sons back into the gold’

This intrigued her. She was superstitious and the Crusader scared her.
Perhaps he was a demon and yet that day he had showed defiance in front of I ** and there was a proud bearing to his countenance.

She feared he would **** the gorilla. Or his God would.
Then he would only trade places with the beast. For I ** would ensure his terror pits were kept open.

A fear rose up in her psyche. A premonition of something dreadful.
She did not know that I ** had planned to throw her to the beast.

Even as she thought of this, a scream broke the night.

It was a death shriek. She knew that sound immediately as she had done many a soul in during her years in the pits.

This sound had a tone to it. The scream of surprise. Death had touched someone unexpectedly and the pause between the realisation of imminent death and the pouncing of death had dwelled a little longer than she had experienced with her victims.

The sound had come from the gorilla pit.

Surely all in the area had heard it. She cautiously opened her room door and glanced out.  I ** was running like blazes to the pit.

Two guards had been placed on duty as always.

When he got there only one was alive. Barely alive.
I ** noticed the gorilla cage was empty. The second guard lay in the pit. Dead as a door nail. His limbs had been ripped asunder.

His head lay on the dirt floor with its purple tongue pulled from its throat. The eyes were glazed in terror. Blood poured from the torso.

Only the beast could have done this. Some of the guards limbs had been feasted upon.

The second guard was covered in blood. He had been mauled and was close to death. His crusaders uniform was matted in spit and blood as if a gorilla had blown its nose in it.

He was at the point of death.

‘Master I **?’ ‘ Forgiven your humble servant’

‘What has happened here? ordered I **

He had a fair idea. His orders were for the guards to go into the pit and **** and poke the gorilla through his cage with a crusader sword. His idea had formed that morning in his ***** induced state.
The gorilla would associate his torment with the image of the crusaders uniform.

‘Goad the beast! he had ordered

I ** wanted a battle royal for the Snakehead Lords.
A spectacle unlike anything they had ever witnessed.
He was a showman and knew the crusader in uniform would be the set piece of his theatre.

This time the crusader would not live. The gorilla would tear him limb from limb the moment he saw the uniform.

I ** had laughed but he was not laughing now. He had his samurai sword firmly in his hand.

Screams echoed throughout the building.

‘Master I **, forgive your servant’

‘The gorilla broke from the cage and scaled the ladder to the pit’

‘You will pay for your dereliction of duty, you cur!’ roared I **

Then his blade came crashing down upon his guards exposed neck.

His head fell into the pit and rolled beside his former colleague.

Two severed heads looked at each other with empathetic eyes as if they knew what each one was going through.

I ** let out a demented scream of rage.

The gorilla was loose.

Orders were sent out immediately.

‘Find the beast! No one is to lay a hand on the gorilla!’

‘The gorilla dies then you die!’

The spectacle was the next evening. His prize attraction was fed and on the loose.

Yu Yan kept her door open slightly. She had heard the wails of I **.

Had the crusaders God killed him?

Then she saw a horrific sight. Her heart nearly burst from her chest.

There was the beast. It was enormous and stood upon its legs.
It was beating its chest in defiance and the boom echoed into her quarters and shook the earth beneath her feet.

She was sure she would die at the hands of the beast.

I ** had rounded the corner!

All looked on in total shock.

At the foot of the beast was young ******* cowering in terror.

He had snuck out of the crusaders room in a search for water.

His eye was crying. His one ear trembling to the sound of the gorilla’s roar. A little runt with a club foot.  I ** looked at the sight before him.
Uncaged, the gorilla’s magnificence and magnitude was amplified.

No one dared move. The gorilla might make its way back to the pit.
It was it’s home and perhaps the curiosity of the beast had been sated.

******* lay whimpering imploring in the tone for help.

I ** tried to calm him

‘Your fate is at one with the heavens, *******‘

It happened then. The Beast picked ******* up its huge arms and caressed him. As if it were its offspring. It lurched forward and all stepped well away, ready to run for their lives.

It’s nostrils were huge and it’s lips planting kisses on *******’s face.
It’s tongue licking his cauliflowered ear.

******* couldn’t scream out.  But he was screaming on the insides

‘Save me! Someone save me!’

Petting young ******* all the way, the gorilla made its way back to the pit.

I ** arranged to lock it immediately and placed a guard detail of twenty men around the pit.

******* was locked in with the beast. A huge hairy, muscular arm nearly smothered his tears’

This was the fate for the moment of *******. A gorilla’s pet.

I ** looked to the Heavens and took it as a sign he was at one with the Gods.

No one will believe it. I will tell all it was my plan, he thought

There was money in this

‘Now young *******’ he thought

‘Call the gorilla who nurses you ‘Father’

I ** laughed then and the sound of it was manic.

Yu Yan closed her door and locked it in terror.

The crusader turned over on his straw bed. He had slept through it all.

‘That little ******* is quiet tonight’ he thought

‘Wonder why he’s not whimpering?’

Then he went back to sleep.

The gorilla was content as he had been for a long time. His pet was his to keep. No one dare take ******* from him. Try it and see. The gorilla would die for him.

He pressed ******* close to his hairy chest and petted his ear.

******* was whimpering. Things weren’t going well for him.

The pit was cleaned and reinforced. The dead guards removed.

All was well with I **. The fight would be tomorrow.

It promised to be a spectacular.


Chapter 8 ~~~~~ Close Encounters of the Worst Kind~~~

Great excitement filtered the gorilla pit. Torch rushes lit up the arena.
Flickering shadows danced on the walls as senior Snakehead members were silhouetted against the flames and dancing girls.

Bambang, Zhang Wei, and Boqin all looked pleased at the elaborate display of flesh presented before them. It was critical they enjoyed the show as I ** wanted to ingratiate himself with their circle.

A slow drum beat kept the tempo. The gorilla was visible to them behind its cage.

‘Look! said Bambang to his business colleagues

‘There is something in there with the beast?

‘What is it? It looks foreign. Has I ** been feeding it vermin?’

That gave them all a laugh.

‘It is looking at you! Zhang Wei’ said Bambang getting excited

Zhang Wei saw young ******* looking at him. He picked up an orange from his platter. It hit ******* in the face.

The gorilla went into a rage and shielded him from their gaze.

This caused an eruption of manic laughter from them all.

I ** noticed the commotion and was pleased they were in excellent form and settling into the evening.

‘That runt looks like you, Boqin’ came from the group

‘Which one? the beast or the vermin

I ** gave a neutral smile. It wouldn’t be a good idea to voice an opinion as an outsider.

Still it was a neutral start

Bambang grabbed one of the dancing girls and slapped her **** causing her to shriek. She suddenly remembered her place and started to giggle.

I ** had glared at her shriek.

To smooth things over, the dancing girl gave Bambang a lap dance.

All of them howled with laughter.

‘Perhaps I have served them too much wine’ thought I **

Then the event kicked off. The girls left the stage and three of the torch rushes were extinguished to create tension.

I ** had upped the ante. Twelve warriors from the West were tied to wooden stakes.

One of them was upside down.

The bets were placed.

Yu Yan entered the arena and poured water down the victims nose.

His spluttters and gasps enhanced their enjoyment.

She moved among the staked warriors.

Her nails had been soaked in alcohol and varnished in a red lacquer.
They were stronger than steel.

I ** asked the group which one would look best with one eye.

All of the other guests watched as Boqin pointed his heavily bejewelled finger at a terrified victim.

He shook his body for all it was worth in a futile attempt to flee the pit.

I ** nodded to Yu Yan. She bowed to the snakeheads and displayed her fingers for their edification.

All them smiled then watched her go to work.

Slowly she approached the tied warrior. He looked on in terror.

All the other eleven knew what was coming. They had witnessed her in action in the pits.

Money changed hands as the crowd bet on the victims chances of dying from shock or surviving in the land of the blind.

Yu Yan looked her victim in the eye. He was naked and blanched as she approached. Unexpectedly she grabbed a torch rush and let the flames lick his belly. The screams were hideous to hear.
In that merciful distraction, she reached her hand out suddenly and gouged his eye out.

Another blood curdling scream echoed through the arena.

Holding up the eye she bowed to the trio of Snakehead high lords even as the crowd erupted into a frenzy of approval and hand clapping.

They looked at I **.

‘You have surpassed yourself, I **!’

‘Her name?’

‘My Lord Zhang Wei, that is my precious jade Yu Yan’

‘She will dine with me tonight!’ commanded Zhang Wei

I ** bowed and started to think on his feet

Who now would be the desert for the gorilla?

At all times ******* had looked on with his one eye and recoiled in terror. Sensing this the Gorilla picked him up and embraced him closely. ******* whimpered.

Now! Gentlemen, you shall see some blade throwing skills.

Five martial artists tumbled into the air brandishing deadly blades,

In the blink of an eye, three of the staked victims had lost their ears.

The crowd went into a frenzy.

One of the martial artists showed his prowess with the nun chucks.

He threw them about like his life depended on it then finished the display by landing the business end into the prefrontal cortex of his victim.

The crowd were on their feet and the money and wine flowed freely.

A slight intermission introduced some conversation time for his paying guests as they sampled the culinary delights laid on.

Everything was going nicely for I **.

‘Gentlemen, you are about to see the power of a silverback gorilla when it is unleashed’

A gong was beaten upon I **’s signal. All the martial artists were removed to safety. Yu Yan was escorted out to a resounding round of applause.

The warriors were untied and given spears to defend themselves.

On I **’s signal the gong was beaten once again.

This was an instruction to open the cage and unleash the beast.

It came out with a slow powerful pace. The smell of fear in the audience as great as it was in the pit.
All eyes were glued to the scene.

*******, in a rash move, made to escape and ran for all he was worth.

One of the warriors reacted on instinct. Thinking ******* was a wild boar due to the diminished light, he lashed a vicious boot to his throat and got ready to run him through with the spear.

The gorilla went into pyscho mode. It ran like an Olympian and as quick as it takes to say ‘*******!’, the warrior was pulled asunder.

Then the gorilla stood to its full height and beat its chest.
It roared like a demented demon.

All of the crowd reeled in terror. The Snakeheads were mesmerised.

Bambang made a mental note to book the next event with I **.

Then the gorilla glared at I ** and beat it’s chest again.

None of the warriors dared approach. Slowly the Gorilla approached ******* who was cowering and crying for all he was worth.
A huge muscular, hairy arm picked him up and threw him into the cage. ******* landed on his ear and broke down crying.

All eyes never left the beast. Some of the warriors had formed a circle of spears in the fashion of the Romans.

One of them made a fatal error and lunged at the beast.
There was no time to cry out. His head was removed in one vicious twist and hurled at I **.

The crowd were in a frenzy.

I ** started to panic. He signalled his gong beat to summon the crusader.

The Snakeheads watched as the gorilla beat its chest and roared.
Bambang nearly wet himself. Was it even safe to be here? he thought suddenly regretting his purchase of a ring side seat.

The gorilla unleashed hell and tore the warriors to pieces. Screams, shrieks, and blood curdling roars filled the terror pit.

A brief silence settled. There in the corner of the arena?

What was it? A red flag fluttering?

No! It was the Crusader brandishing a large sword. I ** knew he could wield that sword.
His red crusaders cross was noticed by the gorilla. It went into a complete frenzy and started frothing at the mouth.

The Snakeheads were on their feet. This was the spectacle of spectacles.
They had never seen anything like Tommy before.

Tommy roared ‘My God will deliver me!’

He ran around the circumference of the arena. He had noticed the cowering *******.

Incredibly he leaped into the pit and grabbed ******* into his arms.

Sensing ******* was in danger the gorilla hesitated for fear of endangering his pet’s life.

Everyone roared for the Crusader.

No one believed their eyes at what happened next.

The Crusader threw his sword at the feet of I **.

What was this? I ** thought

Has he gone mad?

Then just as suddenly he threw young ******* onto the ground in front of the beast. He landed on his ear.

The crowd were going ballistic. The gorilla was confused.

All of the snakeheads were on their feet roaring in approval.

What was that in the Crusader’s hand?!

Tommy had the eyepatch in his hand. He was using it as a sling.
In the eyepatch was *******’s gouged out eye.

Tommy swirled the sling above his head

‘Yes! Though you be my Goliath, I shall not **** the beast!’

‘My God will sustain and empower me!’

The gorilla and ******* looked on in bewilderment.

Tommy was a sure shot. He aimed for the gorilla’s nostril.
He only wanted to stun the beast.

It landed and lodged in the gorilla’s left nostril staring back at the crowd. It looked like a three eyed gorilla.

In what must count as a world first, ******* looked from and at himself. He burst out crying.

The gorilla, in torment, ran back to its cage and tried to dislodge the eye.

The crowd were in an uproar. The Snakeheads couldn’t congratulate I ** enough.

‘We will have the money for you I **! We will bring many!’

‘We must witness this again!’

All looked down at the crusader.

He had ******* up on his shoulder.

The crusader was chanting and the crowd joined in.

‘Judas! Judas! Judas!

A ladder was lowered and Tommy emerged with *******.

He had become a living legend.

I ** ensured the crusader was fed and treated well that night.

He was given the best quarters. Young ******* was placed back in the closet.

Even though he was thirsty he did not dare leave in search of water.

I ** couldn’t believe his luck. In his ***** induced state he planned his next event.

‘If I could only get my hands on the skinhead’ he thought

‘Where was he?’

Cecil was still on the South China Seas but he would meet I ** soon enough.

Chapter 9 ~~~ All Quiet on the Equestrian Front ~~~

Horace galloped his piebald pony up and down the back streets, little streets, great streets and lanes of East London.
He was a mature student in the local Crescent College studying Nietzsche and literature and their impact upon the suppression of the working class philistines.

He recalled the words of Yeats, ‘hurling the little streets upon the great’.

‘I will ******* hurl this piebald upon Cecil’s head if I see the little *******!’

‘Where the **** is he?’

It had been at a least a month since Horace had seen him.

The piebald pony was exhausted and gasping for breath.
Horace was a lard **** and kept shifting his **** into the lower spine of the animal.

It would not be unusual to see Horace on his pony day or night.
The beasts ribs were protruding through its bony frame. It prayed for an end to the nightly romps.

‘Yah! Yah! roared Horace

‘Move your ******* ****!’

There was no sign of Cecil anywhere.

It was getting on in the night and Horace was feeling the damp air.
His belly rumbled as he reined in Cochise.
The pony was his pride and joy. Cecil had stolen it from another council estate on the Eastside. It was a birthday present for Horace.

Horace always felt Cecil was the salt of the earth. No uncle could ask for a better nephew.


‘Here Horace!’ Cecil had said.

‘It’s a pure bred pony descended from the blood stock of the Native American Apache!’

‘Never look a gift nag in the mouth’ Horace had thought

‘It called Cochise’ he recollected Cecil saying.

It was love at first sight for Horace. He rode the blue blazes out of it ever since.

‘They don’t need much feeding’ said Cecil

‘A bag of carrots and a bucket of water and they’re rockets on legs’

Then Horace snapped back to the present and gave Cochise a boot up the ****.

‘Good lad’ he said and thought Cochise was putting the weight on.

The frying pan was on in moments and he smashed a couple of eggs into it with a streaky side of bacon.

The smell wafted into the back garden and Cochise lifted its head in eternal unrequited hope.

Horace lived in a council estate on Misery Hill. In his prime he had been a factory thief. The black market was always open to tellys, radios, Knick knacks and cheap aftershave.
His house was on Misery Lane and hidden at the back of his favorite pub ‘The Bleeding Horse’.

Horace called it ‘the Bleeding Kip’.

The barman was terrified of Horace. He knew Cecil was his nephew.
Cecil collected protection money for his uncle and the barman knew Horace was behind it.
He knew to shut his mouth about it if he valued his teeth.
Which he did as they had cost him a lot of money.
On three separate occasions his nose had been broken by Cecil for delay in payment.

The barman was also the owner of the ‘Bleeding Horse’ and this morning had knocked on Horace’s door

This puzzled Horace.

‘What the **** do you want?

The barman was terrified and stuttering. He held out a brown paper bag.

‘Cecil hasn’t called this past few weeks’ he said

‘He left this behind him last time he came’ said the barman hoping Horace got the message it was the due protection money.

Each gave each other a knowing look

‘Please tell him I have settled my affairs with you in his absence’

Horace was staggered. What the **** was going on?

He pushed his luck.

‘There better be a ******* nagin of whiskey in your **** pocket to wash my breakfast down’ he roared

The barman was a keen observer of humanity. Anticipating this very question, he produced a bottle of whiskey.

‘Are we good, sir?’

‘Yes! Now *******! Cecil will be in touch. You keep this envelope coming or he’ll break that ******* prosthetic you call a nose!’

The barman nodded and bowed in deference and cleared off.

This was an unexpected bonus. Only Cecil could assert his authority and collect the protection money in the neighborhood.

With a bit of luck others would follow the barman’s example.

Still if Cecil didn’t show his face soon, then it was only a matter of time before the word on the street knew his attack dog was missing.

Who would break noses if Cecil didn’t make contact?

He went back inside and murdered his breakfast. The whiskey was gone awol down his throat shortly there after.

In a drunken stupor he left some carrots and water out for Cochise.

Hours later he awoke and assessed his situation

If Cecil didn’t come back very soon then it was game over for the protection racket. He was too old to break noses at this stage in his life. He had a small business on the side. ‘Small belly enterprises’ importing sugar pills in from China and passing them off as weight loss supplements. He hired a couple of skinny kids to flog them on the streets. It was thriving but the protection money was the mainstay of his income.

‘Where the **** are you, Cecil?’ he muttered

He thought long and hard of his last conversation with Cecil.

That’s when it dawned on him.

‘The ******* Pearl River Chinese takeaway!’

He had asked Cecil to put the screws on the kip. They were raking in the money like an oil well in Saudi.

Had they got something to do with this?

‘Of course they ******* have!’ he thought

He remembered **** Lei was a lecturer in his college on Chinese business relations. He had been surprised to learn he was the owner of the Pearl River.

**** Lei had himself express prdsurprise to learn Horace was a mature student of Nietzsche during their brief exchange of conversation at the college tea rooms.

‘You little ******* *******!’ he thought

‘If Cecil is in the deep end because of you, then there will be a bill to settle in your blood’

He waited till nightfall fell on the slums.

Then he got his best riding boots out of his shed. He couldn’t be bothered with a saddle. ******* like the Apache warriors would do. Wasn’t he as good as any Apache?

Jumping onto Cochise he said ‘ Aren’t you of Apache descent, yourself you little beauty?!’

The piebald pony was resigned to the midnight rides.

Horace galloped down the streets screaming ‘yah! yah! as if he were driving a herd across the Rio Grande’

He slowed Cochise down as they approached the back lane into the Pearl River premises.

‘Easy now, Cochise! easy now!’

Horace scanned the back alley looking for any clue that Cecil came to a bad end.

A window curtain moved slightly. **** Lei peered though in bewilderment.

‘Who the **** is that?’  he thought

It was too dark to make out the features of the fat ******* on the skeletal pony.

He went to grab a torch but the sound of ‘yah! yah! carried the rider away.

Horace gave Cochise some hay for a treat that night.

Something in his gut told him **** Lei had a hand in Cecil’s disappearance.

‘There can only be one way to find out’ he said to himself

‘**** Lei is going to get a visit from the Nutcracker’

‘I’ll find you, Cecil lad!, By Christ I will’

Tomorrow he would call his old pals and **** Lei would be their unwitting guest at their get together.

The piebald pony blew off a god almighty stinker just then.

‘Did you have to do that Cochise?’ he roared

Then he placed his head on the pillow of his Kingsize four poster.

‘Ubermensch! Superman is it? I’ll ******* show Nietzsche what an ubermensch is.

Cochise blew him a good night kiss to finish him off.

‘Did you have to do that you ****** stink horse?’

A tiredness fell over them and exhaustion closed their eyes.

All was quiet on the Equestrian Front.



Chapter 10 ~~~~~~~~ Blitzkrieg Wolf ~~~~~~~~

A small crowd had gathered in the Bleeding Horse. The barman scanned the premises looking for unfamiliar faces. His nerves were shot. Horace hadn’t been in for some time now and this was most unusual as he knew his regulars habits.

A lone figure sat at the dark corner table nearest the exit. A blinking neon light above her head gave her a film noir appearance. She was smoking a cigar and the lighter was like a flame thrower. Fearful his smoke alarm would trigger, he decided to take action.

As politely as he could he said ‘Please, we operate a no smoking policy. Kindly extinguish your cigar’

Then he smiled.

Her grizzled features were offended at his tone.

‘Please sit down’ she said.

‘I am awaiting company, you seem like a nice gentleman’

Her cigar was a small furnace at this stage.

The barman noticed she spoke with a strange inflection in her voice.

‘Her English is **** good’ he thought

He sat down in the interests of hospitality and was about to explain the house rules. Perhaps give her some tourist tips.

Her hands were gloved in a rough leather. The face, very stern, almost man-ish. Not a looker by a long shot. A scar ran from the left eye down to the corner of her thin lip taking a detour by the ear lobe.

In a split second she grabbed the barman by the back of the head. Her leather glove had a large swathe of his hair in its grasp.

She pulled his head down on the table with the ferocity of a threatened rat.

His nose was smashed instantly. Her other hand had a delicate grip on his throat so he couldn’t cry out.

It was instantaneous and discreet. The barman was unconscious for at least ten minutes.

No one had noticed.

He came to finally as a sweet smell of cigar
permeated his broken nostrils.

Coming to his senses he recollected the moments before he went under.

An uncaring, cold, menacing face was eyeballing him.

‘Look’  the barman said
‘Smoke the whole ****** packet if you like! You seem like a nice lady’

He dared not remove himself without her permission.

Her gloved hand reached into her inside pocket.

A wallet was produced. She beckoned him to lean forward.

Her voice had definitely got a Germanic quality to it. The barman was a World War Two fanatic. He had seen all the documentaries about the camp women guards. He knew he was in trouble.

She opened a wallet and showed the barman a photo.

He recognized it immediately. His stomach churned. His face blanched. It was Cecil, that ******* Skinhead!

The camp guard was glaring at him for a reaction.

‘I see you recognize the gentleman in the photograph. That is good. Yes, that is very good’

‘He blurted out’ I gave Horace the envelope! Paid in full. He said we were good’

‘Horace? Good. This is something you will explain further’

‘I am not interested in envelopes you schweinhunt!’

The barman nearly wet himself. He knew he had said too much. If she didn’t know Horace then who was she?

Why was she touting a photo of Cecil? Why was his nose smashed to smithereens? He wanted to cry but was afraid of the camp guard.

‘I am a lady’ she said then

‘I will call in again tomorrow and you will buy me a drink’

He nodded assuringly and knew to be there the following night if he valued his life.

‘Let me give you a little gift’ she said ‘before I leave’

‘A reminder so you don’t forget me’

The barman was terrified and looked at her in horror.

A gloved hand caught the hair on the back of his head. She leaned in and pulled hard. What was left of his nose splintered into fragmented pieces.

He passed out immediately. He would need to make an appointment with his plastic surgeon for a replacement prosthetic nose.

Adalwolf Wolf had enjoyed her visit to the Bleeding Horse.

She noticed the place where the barman’s nose had been was bleeding severely. She stubbed her cigar out on the wound and cauterized it. It would leave a nasty scar. Deciding not to take the cigar with her, she left it where it was. The barman’s former nose location made a neat ashtray.

The door opened then and she slipped out. Horace would get to meet her soon. He knew her as ‘The Blitzkrieg’.

She knew Horace as ‘The Pile Driver’.

A voice came from the crowd in the Bleeding Horse.

It was a customer.

‘Where the **** is the barman?’

‘You can never get a drink in this kip when you want one ‘

‘Bleeding kip!’

The barman lay unconscious in the dim light corner near the exit.

His first encounter with The Blitzkrieg would be rememberable.

When he awoke he made it a point to flout the ‘no  smoking policy’.

He was undecided about whether to lie low or just lock up.

Finally, he decided he had to tell Horace. If he had any chance of surviving a second encounter with the Germanic sounding woman then it was in the horrible hands of Horace.

Adalwolf Wolf cracked her knuckles in her hotel room.

She lit a fresh cigar and looked at the photo of Cecil.

‘I will find you, you little *******’

‘You can count on it’

The scar on her face was illuminated by a full moon passing by her window. Blitzkrieg Wolf would never change into a human.


Chapter 11. ~~~~~~ Made in China ~~~~~

Cecil stood on the deck of the of the ‘River Rat’. He looked superb in his new red calico shirt. His denim jacket was sitting on a hook in his private quarters. His chain glistened in the midday sun. That weapon which had cracked the heads of London’s toughest thugs was nestled in his **** pocket.

His countenance enjoyed a rich rosy healthy hue. There was a glint in his eye, he was fit as a Stradivarius and his lithe muscular frame elevated his presence amongst the deck hands. An aura of invincibility radiated from his very being. He was aware that his technique and skill with the chain had enraptured all of the crew.

Three weeks had gone by and all had bowed reverently as he passed amongst them.
The language was alien to him and he hadn’t got a bull’s notion what they were saying. Body language was Cecil’s language. He knew respect when he beheld it.
A gong had been beaten a bit earlier today than he had expected.

Was lunch earlier today than usual? Perhaps the crew were getting briefed for another pirate attack. The pirate Queen, Ching Shih, looked agitated as one of the crew was blathering on like a lunatic from Bedlam. His face was red as a beetroot and the venom and anger in his tone was escalating.

What was that all about?

Then the screaming lad turned and pointed an accusatory finger at Cecil.

It was a threat to his presence on the deck. Cecil could smell it from a distance. Not to be outdone, Cecil pulled the chain from his **** pocket. It swirled around his head creating a resonance and hum that radiated menace.

The finger- pointing man was enraged further at this.

Words were exchanged in the Cantonese way. Then a roar of approval came from the crew.

Reading between the lines, as his only experience with the chinese language was limited to ‘chicken curry and chips’, he knew it was a challenge. His psyche went into overdrive.

He was realistic in his appraisal of the situation. His presence was tolerated because he had cleared the decks of their enemy in their earlier conflict. This might be a factor. Secondly, he was a white boy and in the company of Chinese pirates. Then it became clearer to him.
It was a challenge to truly be deserving of a place amongst them.
At first he had been a curiosity to them. His clothing, the doc martens, his battle hardened ten yard death stare.

Some thought he was a demon and a threat to their good fortune.
Others felt he was a Western Jonah and would bring them bad luck.
Superstition played its part amongst the crew.

Plus there was resentment that  Ching Shih was giving Cecil unwarranted special treatment.
After all what was special about this warrior? Yes, he had slaughtered many in the last battle. What was that to them if they thought about it long enough. Which they had done.
Weren’t they all ******, merciless butchers themselves?
**** right they were.

All these things passed his mind and though they were unsaid directly to Cecil, he got the message.

It was challenge to his spirit as a warrior.

Even as he roared ‘ Gerrrrrrrrrrrrrrruppppp  ye bleeding *******!’, he ran into the center of the deck.
The doc martens gleamed in the sun and were thirsty for battle.
There would be no quarter.
A scream of surprised shock emanated from the deck hands.

Bets had been placed that Cecil’s courage would not pass the test of an encounter with Cheung

Cheung was a brute. A veteran of many piratical campaigns and a one man killing machine. His appearance was demonstrative of a starved waif. Not one ounce of fat was surplus to his muscular physique. He looked like he had been cut from rock by a stone mason of considerable skill. His eyes were dark and betrayed no sign of fear.
In his mind the Skinhead was as good as dead.

A slight incident before he engaged to do battle with Cecil nearly stalled the fight and caused uproar.
One of the crew had bet heavily that Cecil would turn tail and jump overboard when Cheung pointed the death finger at him.
He made a disastrous, miscalculated attempt to trip Cecil up and turned into him even as Cheung was entering the arena of death.

Without even taking an eye off Cheung, Cecil landed a full-on, direct hit into the crew member’s nether region. The doc marten landed with murderous intention into his *****.
A blood curdling scream erupted into the salty midday air. It was a death kick and served to limber Cecil up. One nil to Cecil.

The crew, those who had betted on the Skinhead warrior, and there were many amongst them, all let out an enormous cheer.

The tension was mounting. Cheung felt humiliated at this scurrilous attempt to diminish his status by intervening in the fight. Had Cecil not planted the doc martens into his victim then Chang himself would have given his fellow crew member a full contact sidekick to the temple.

Cheung had been shocked at the Skinheads rapid response. A doubt now entered his head. A life or death battle has no place for doubt in the arena. Cecil had gained a psychological advantage. Two nil for Cecil.

The chain at all times had been humming. Cecil deliberately allowed his opponent a chance to make the first move. He had an instinct this ****** was their best warrior. Let’s see what he can do before I ******* destroy him, thought Cecil.

Hadn’t Cecil taken on many a Grandmaster in his day. Karate heads, Tae Kwon do blackbelts, Shotokan masters. They all fell the same way when a doc marten crushed their throat or manhood.

At this thought, Cecil burst out laughing at his opponent.

‘*******! you little ******* *******!’ Cecil screamed

‘C’mon and taste ******* steel!’

The crew roared again.

‘What is the Skinhead shouting?, Cecil’s supporters said amongst themselves.

‘It must be his cry to the War Gods?’

Then a large majority of the crew got behind Cecil and started chanting ‘******* steel! ******* Steel!’ in their best attempt at English.

This further enraged Cheung. He had pulled the nun chucks and was swiping them from left armpit to right armpit in rapid movements.
Above his head, around his chest, flinging one end out to distance himself from Cecil. Then back again to left armpit, right armpit in rapid succession.

Then finally he closed distance and lashed the nun chucks in an attempt to reconstruct Cecil’s forehead. Even as it looked like it was about to make contact, it was countered by the chain.
Cecil deflected it just as Cheung followed up with a sweeping back roundhouse in attempt to crush Cecil’s lower spine.

It would have connected on a less seasoned fight campaigner. Cecil could read his signals like an Enigma decoder from Bletchley park.
He ducked under Cheung’s legs rapidly and landed a vicious punch into his *****.

Cheung crumpled and his Aieeeeeeeeee! was hideous to hear.

Cecil swirled the chain and was about to land the death blow. He knew it was required if he was to establish genuine rapport within the crew members.

A shout rose up from Ching Shih. Her hand was raised as she looked to Cecil. There would be no deaths today. It was enough that Cecil had rose to the challenge.

He stopped swinging the chain but couldn’t resist landing a kick to Cheung’s  teeth to let him know he was boss.

The entire crew were on their feet cheering.

‘******* steel! ******* steel!’

Ching Shih approached and bowed respectfully to Cecil. He had proved himself once again in her eyes.

A gong was sounded three times on her command.

Her ship tattooist had been informed to be on standby.
She would be the first to get a replica of Cecil’s dragon tattoo.
It would include the lettering ‘ Made in China’.
Then all of the crew members would be tattooed in turn.
She looked at her tattoo and smiled

‘Look, she said, we are honoring you, great warrior, we too are made in China’

Cecil smiled and bowed his head with respect. He hadn’t a bull’s notion what she was saying. She must really like my tattoo, he thought.

‘Yes! Cecil said then to himself, ‘the letters spell ‘warrior’!

He made a mental note to say thanks to the tattoo artist in London for doing a **** good job.

Horace, his uncle, crossed his mind then.
‘Wait till he hears this one’ he thought

He will never believe it.

Cheung was unconscious on the deck. The apprentice tattooist had been ordered to put the tattoo both on his arm and one on his ****.
This would be the inside joke of the Queen and crew.

In days to come, Cheung felt he had bragging rights with the crew.

‘Look’ he would say ‘ I have earned this tattoo on my arm!’
‘ I took on the Skinhead in deadly combat’

‘All who cared to listen would reply

‘You are talking out of your ****!’

A huge gale of laughter would follow. This always confused Chang.

On the pirate ship lolled. Cecil was at one with the crew.
Some of them wanted to learn his warrior war cries.

Soon the whole deck was chanting, as they practiced their combat maneuvers -

‘Gerrrrrrrrrrrruppppppppp ye Bleeding *******!’

A new Red flag was tailored to fly beside the crossed bones.
It was an image of a snarling dragon with the letters  ‘Made  in China’ emblazoned across it.

Cecil looked at it fluttering above the South China Seas.

‘Bleeding deadly!’ he thought

‘Warrior!’  ‘Brilliant ******* flag’

The Sun was still high in the afternoon sky.

‘Made in China’ was sailing into troubled waters.

Chapter 12 ~~~ Uproar in the Kip~~~~

A tall, tough looking man approached **** Lei as he got out of Porsche.

‘Good afternoon, Sir’ he said to **** Lei

My name is Harold French. My business is tracking missing people.
As he handed his business card to **** Lei an uneasy atmosphere settled in the College car park.
As he presented his card it was accompanied with a missing person flyer.

Stunned and caught off guard **** Lei threw an eye over it.

Missing - Cecil Bolger
———————————
The public are asked to search their memories and recall if they have noticed this man. Last seen on Denzille lane in the vincinity of ‘The Pearl River’ Chinese take away.

He was wearing the same clothes as in this recent photograph.
A red cotton shirt, denim jeans and jacket, a pair of Doc Marten  ox-blood colored boots.

His name is Cecil Bolger, a notorious criminal with strong links to underworld quasi -military and paramilitary subversives.

Be aware as he is highly dangerous and usually armed with a stainless steel or tungsten steel chain. His disposition is towards violence and the public are asked not to approach, if seen, under any circumstances.

His family have expressed concern and the Local Legion of Mary have asked for your prayers. It is uncertain what links Mr Cecil Bolger  has with the Legion and this line of enquirer is being pursued.

Distinguishing features are a broken nose, and a tattoo on his left arm stating ‘Warrior’ in Chinese lettering.

Please inform your local police task force at this number 6667776969 if you have any information regarding Cecil’s whereabouts.





**** Lei was thinking on his feet and responded

‘Unfortunately I am unable to help you Mr French. I do not recognize this young man.
Inwardly **** Lei was in a rage. ‘That ******* Skinhead is a subversive? Is he? ‘ he thought
‘I better advise the senior command and get word to I **. This could be trouble’

As he thought it he said
‘ I have a lecture to present. Please excuse me”

‘Certainly, I will call to your premises ‘The Pearl River’ to discuss further if you have time please.

‘No, that won’t do, **** Lei replied

‘We are far too busy to meet you’

‘We?’ said French

‘I mean I am,  Mr. French

‘To be honest with you, this is no concern of mine’

‘Isn’t it strange, said French , that Mr Bolger was last seen near the Pearl River’ ‘Aren’t you the owner?’

**** Lei was getting agitated now. French was becoming an irritant.

‘Actually Mr French, why don’t you come around to the Pearl River tomorrow evening. Chicken curry on the house and a complimentary glass of wine too. We can discuss further in my office. Perhaps my staff have seen this young man’

‘Excellent! responded French

**** Lei made his excuses and entered the college.

French got into his Ford Cortina and drove off.

‘Has he taken the bait?’  said a passenger

It was Horace. Cecil’s uncle.

‘******* sure he has! said French

‘Good man Ballcrusher’ responded Horace

‘Mr French? How do you think them up’ ‘you ******* lunatic!’

‘Not only that, said Ballcrusher’

‘Free chicken curry tomorrow night and wine reception at the Pearl River’

‘You jammy *******! roared Horace as they burst out laughing.

‘Where now? said the Ballcrusher

‘The Bleeding Horse!’ replied Horace

‘That Bleeding Kip? You’re joking?’

“I have business there’ Horace said

The Ford Cortina pulled up outside the Kip.

‘Let him know you’re my man, Ballcrusher’

‘You better ******* believe it, Horace’

As they entered the Kip, Ballcrusher ducked to get under the door.
He was a monster and a former Rugby head basher.

The barman saw them coming. He look worried and was flush in the face. Horace hesitated but didn’t know why.

‘Gentleman, please sit down’ said the barman obviously very agitated.

‘Drinks on the house’

The barman did his best to give Horace a warning but Ballcrusher was too eager to assert authority on behalf of Horace.

He planted an unmerciful boot into the barman’s manhood.
Horace cringed. As the barman dropped, a voice called out from behind the bar.

‘Hello, Piledriver, remember me you ****** *******?’

Horace nearly passed out. He was about to command the Ballcrusher to kick her teeth down the back of her throat.

Adalwolf Wolf was ahead of him though and expected resistance. Her gun was loaded and aimed at the two of them.

‘Now ,Mr Boot in the *****, shall we see how your own ***** fare out against a bullet?

‘Perhaps you, Piledriver? Fancy becoming a ****** ?

The barman came too in time for Wolf to step her stilletto into his new prosthetic nose. The screams were horrific.

‘Now, she said, Where is the ******* Skinhead?!’

An ambulance siren wailed outside and passed by. Horace had hoped it was the cops.

‘Sit down, we have much to discuss’ Wolf said

A crowd of people walked in then.

‘Get out! she cried

‘We are closed today’

A voice came from the dejected crowd.

‘I ******* told you! It’s a  ******* Kip!’

‘Bleeding Kip!’

The door was locked then. The barman wanted to warn Horace to watch out for the head grab. His ***** were on fire and he passed out momentarily.

Wolf looked at Ballcrusher.  ‘You have picked the wrong pub my friend’

Then she shot him in the *****. Horace shook for all he was worth.

Ballcrusher collapsed beside the barman. A satisfied grin passed over the barman.

‘Now, Piledriver!, she said to Horace

‘Where the **** is the Skinhead?! Her gun was pointing at his manhood. His stomach churned as he looked at Ballcrusher. He didn’t look like he would survive his first encounter with the Blitzkrieg.

The door of the pub burst in then. It came crashing down with a violent fury.

**** Lei had contacted the local Snakeheads and all had followed the Ford Cortina. As they burst in, their machetes were cutting the air.

The air was saturated in Cantonese war cries.

The barman burst out crying.Things were not going well for him. Had he known of his coming ordeal he would have prayed for death on the spot.

Horace turned back around in the confusion. He looked for Adalwolf Wolf. She was gone!

It was Horace against the Snakeheads.

‘For ***** sake! he shouted as he went under


Chapter 13 ~~~~ The Great Game ~~~~~

There it was in the corner. A consignment of crates all marked ‘Small belly Enterprises’. Horace had awoken in a warehouse. Had it not been for that consignment he would not have known where he was.
He glanced briefly around him. Hadn’t his crew and him broken into this place recently. They deliberately left the ‘small belly’ consignments alone. They were Horace’s after all. This always caused confusion with the warehouse owners.

He ached all over and his head was a weight of pain. Hie arms and legs were tied and he was seated.
The Ballcrusher was slumped to another chair. His legs were matted in blood. Horace whispered ‘Ballcrusher’ ‘Are you okay, mate?’
A dim light flickered and Horace noticed that the crusher’s face was pale as a ghost. ‘****!’ Horace thought. ‘He’s ******* dead’.

A whimper startled him then. It was the barman.
‘What the ****?’ said Horace

There was the barman - hanging upside down and suspended from the ceiling beams by a rope. His left big toe was the tethering point.

The barman was naked and his back had been flayed. His **** was red raw from the whip of some mad *******. He was half conscious and occasionally twirled on the rope. It was a grotesque, macabre vision. His nose was an open wound. The hair a mess of matted blood.

‘What the **** is this?’ thought Horace trying to hold his panic down.

His forehead broke into a bead of sweat.

Another sound caught his attention. It was a low wheezing noise.
Then he saw him. The guard. Out for the count on a reclining couch.
A shirtless mad looking ******* with the honed physique of a trained martial artist. His face was a map of scars.
A blooded whip lay beside him. A paring knife beside the whip. Handcuffs and balaclavas.

Horace was looking at a trained torturer at rest from his handiwork.
‘How long have  I been under’ Harold thought

He was ****** and he knew it. Messing with the wrong people always comes back to haunt you. Here, in this warehouse, were an army of ghosts.

An hour passed and at all the times Horace had kept an eye on the torturer.

He started to awaken and made for his balaclava.

‘Don’t ******* bother putting it on you ******* *******!’ Horace roared in a misjudged air of bravado.

The torturer looked at him and the sight was a terror to behold.
Hie left eye was a clouded hue of red, obviously blind, and his lips were non existent. As if he had been scorched in a chemical tank’

‘Actually, put it ******* on you ugly *******!’

Then Horace laughed because he thought he was better than any comedian anywhere

The torturer, masked now, at all times had not responded. Horace didn’t know it but the torturer was stone deaf.

‘That’s right, Horace screamed, thinking he had unnerved the torturer because of his lack of response.

‘I will ******* do you in and all your ******* mates!’

‘What’s the matter! Is there mud in your ******* ears?’

The torturer came over to Horace then.

‘****!’ Horace thought. ‘The ******* not backing off’

Then the torturer picked up a petrol can and gave Horace a light shower.

Standing back from Horace at a safe distance he lit a cigarette.

Then he lifted his Balaclava to half mast. Pulling in the cigarette he exhaled in little swirling smoke rings.

Horace’s heart sank. The ******* are going to pull a Joan of Arc. They’re going to light me up like Blackpool towers, ****!’
It was all too much. Horace wanted to get the hell out this hell but he was tied to a ******* chair.

Preparing himself for death he decided to go out with a cry of defiance but the words that left his lips were ‘******* CECIL!’

Then everything went into slow motion as the torturer flicked the cigarette into Horace’s lap. The ember landed and spread like a disease. He was about to become an inferno. The flame ignited on contact with the petrol.

Horace screamed like a baby and suddenly he was drenched in a torrent of water.  He had been placed beneath an industrial safety shower. He was put out before he had taken fully alight.

A roar of laughter erupted from behind him. It was **** Lei.
Three others were with him to enjoy the torture session.
Horace looked at **** Lei.

‘So Mr Nietzsche, I don’t see anything super about you’ **** Lei said

Thinking that was a good line he allowed himself a little personal laugh.

‘You have crossed the line with me, Horace’

‘Have a look at your friends, do they look like they are enjoying my gracious benevolence?’

‘They are my guest’s Horace and shall enjoy my hospitality’

The barman became fully awake then. Suspended from the ceiling like a light bulb from his big toe. He was in dire agony.

He screamed in terror. Horace and the barman looked at each other.
It was a knowing look that said ‘we’re ******’

The barman let out another frustrated scream. His big toe was killing him with torment. His flayed  back and **** suddenly made itself noticeable to his brain.

Another scream was unleashed.

**** Lei looked to the pleading eyes of the barman. Then **** Lei looked and nodded to the torturer.

The whip hand of the torturer was put to work and he laid into the barman. He flayed the back, the legs, and the bare **** off of him.

The barman passed out and still he was whipped.

Horace looked on in terror.

The Ballcrusher remained slumped in his chair.

Suddenly the barman regained consciousness just as the whip flayed his **** again. Screams ensued and were terrifying to hear.

Horace didn’t know what to make out of his situation.

‘Enjoying my hospitality, Horace?’ **** Lei said then

A roar of guffawing and laughter filled the warehouse.

The barman swirled from the rope as his **** was tattered.

Horace looked on in terror. Where was Cecil when you ******* needed him?

**** Lei looked at Horace and enjoyed provoking him.

‘You will never see the Skinhead again, Horace’  he said

‘As for Mr. French? He has no ***** to speak of’. This was followed by a manic laugh from **** Lei.

‘No, your friend has shot him in the ***** and ended his days, Horace’
‘You will tell us where she is and who she is?’

Horace couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was stunned into silence.

‘Yes, **** Lei continued. Whatever subversive group is harboring your female friend, we will find her too’

‘Subversive?’ thought a puzzled Horace.

Then he remembered the fake missing poster of Cecil. ‘Ah, ****! he thought. That was all made up to scare **** Lei.

What would he tell **** Lei? That Cecil was your everyday ****.
A skinhead who enjoyed booting you up the hole for pleasure.
No, **** Lei wouldn’t believe that now.

‘I see you are contemplating not telling me all you know, Horace’
‘Such a pity?’ **** Lei uttered with sarcasm.
‘My torturer is tired whipping the **** off your colleague”

‘Perhaps he needs a fresh **** to whip?’

Still Horace uttered not a sound.

The torturer received a nod from **** Lei. On that signal he pushed the barman around in circles and whipped the back, legs and what was left of his **** off him.

The barman screamed like a beaten hyena.

Then he lashed the whip at Horace inches from his face.

‘Yes, Horace, you will be begging them tell me all you know’
‘And I will know, in time, I will know everything’.

A sudden gush of water, a deluge of ice cold water, flooded Horace’s head then. The safety shower had been brought into use again.

Horace had a weird thought process. ‘At least they can’t set me on fire’ he thought. I am already put out’.

Then Horace laughed. It was a demonic laugh and it frightened **** Lei and the others.

Why would he laugh if he were not possessed or mad which in some quarters is the same thing.

‘Laugh, Horace, while you still have teeth’ he said to push the fear back into him.
The torturer was given a nod. He had pulled a pair of plyers front his kit bag.

‘Horace was about to scream. Then another flush drowned his efforts.

All in the warehouse were laughing like the Devil’s companions.

Inside a crate, marked ‘Small Belly Enterprises’, was one singular eye looking out through a knotted hole in the seasoned timber.
It was young *******. I ** had arranged to ship him out of China through the Snakeheads network. He wanted rid of him but was afraid to **** him. ******* had been born under an eclipse of the Sun. This to I ** was a sign the Gods favoured young *******. You can play with the Gods but you cannot thwart them.
There was young *******’s eye looking at his new adopted family terrorizing a fat old ******* and some poor swine hanging from his toe.
******* couldn’t scream as he had no tongue. He dared not whimper. Just then the flesh around the barman’s toe sheared and he plummeted to the ground.
This startled everyone who didn’t expect that the happen. The barman landed on his face and took the full impact where his nose used to be.

The torturer who thought he was being attacked layed into the barman and lashed him with every bit of vengeance he could muster.

Horace passed out. Young ******* passed out.
Only the **** Lei’s wrecking crew took this as a sign of great merriment and laughed at the torturer’s antics.

In the rafters though, well hidden, and keeping a close observance on all that had occurred was a vicious woman.

Adalwolf Wolf saw it all and bided her time.

Horace didn’t know it and least of all the Snakeheads but the Wolf was not a lone wolf. The whereabouts of Cecil the Skinhead was of interest to her and her masters.

Horace had become an unwitting pawn in a great game.
Harriet Cleve Sep 13
In the distance and discernible to an ordinary eye, that is, a human eye and certainly to my eye, one could make out the form of a hard done- by horse whose muscles strained from pulling a load of five middle-aged men whose bearing and demeanor and behavior suggested that the well-being of the horse mattered not a jot to them.

One man brandished a whip and as the incline of the hill got steeper used the whip in direct proportion to the incline.
A bolt of lightning broke from the sky and obliterated every man in the cart and the whip-man must have screamed for his eyes stared out of their sockets as if he had received a whipping.

A soft cloud of translucent light enveloped the horse and it was raised skywards and drifted higher and higher in radiant hues until it was out of sight.

A cleft in the ground ripped beneath the dead-men in  the cart and swallowed them up. All this I could see and the sun shone exquisitely and a soft rain fell briefly. There was a sweet smell of horse and the afternoon fell into evening and collapsed into night.
Those Giants seem so harmless now
They don't bother me any more
They used to be So scary
When they entered through my door.

Those Giants they were very strong
They could crush me with one hand
But when they see me falling
These days they help me stand.

One time I battled with Giants
They were far much bigger than me
Now  they are very gentle
And they fill my heart with glee.

Have you ever battled with Giants
In there many shapes and forms
It's said they have always been there
From the day that we were born.

They say there are no Giants
Well not in a literal way
They come in the form of obsticles
And they are with us every day.

Giants they can be beaton
And we can bring them to there knees
And when they are defeated
They become as gentle as the breeze.
We all are faced with Giantlike situations in our lives .
What a relief when we overcome them in there many shapes and forms.
you will need a good lawyer, Mr Iscariot, and I am good and will charge you thirty pieces of silver for my service. That is good value I don’t need to tell you. Troublesome sons cost parents more than heartaches.

Judas? Is that his name? Don’t worry I know the system and can assure you that Pontious Pilate and I share the same views regarding law and order. I needn’t tell you, Mr Iscariot, this town is gone to hell. I have another case in hand of a fine centurion guard whose ear was lopped off by a madman. His ear! We will nail that ******* to the cross for his audacity.

What? You think Judas knows him? Excellent, perhaps we can **** two birds with one stone.
It’s Passover and the town is acting like it’s the end of days. What’s that? it is the end of days, Mr Iscariot? No, I don’t know Jesus. Is he a local? Don’t sweat it. Pontious might know him. If he had an act or hand in your sons difficulties then we will sort it out.

I don’t believe it? Barabbas? Coming towards this office. What the hell does he want? Okay, look don't be  worried, Mr Iscariot,  I know the law and I know the Roman legislation inside out. Yes! I know they are building crosses like they are going out of fashion. Why don’t you go home and say a prayer for Judas. God is good. Goodbye now.

Ah good, here comes Pontious with Barabbas. Might be connected?

Delilah! When you’re finished with the Samson file, get me what you have on a man named Jesus. I will get Judas off for that kind of money.  By God I will. Now, why would a man lop off a centurions ear?
What in God’s name is going on around here?
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