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Introduction:

Its abiout hanging Pedophiles by their bololocks basically
This is set in Lancashire England where people speak like on Coronation Street on Telly and swear a lot. If you don't like the F word don't F-ing read it.
The scene, a grotty former working mens club near Manchester England.

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"Al, you can't hang pedophiles up by their bollocks." I told him.

"Why the fuck not Johnno, why the fuck not?" he replied as he downed his thirteenth pint of John Smiths, in the gloom of our local club.

"Ease up mate your driving," I reminded him, "You want get a black coffee before we goes home."

"I'm fine," he says, "But look mate I got to get me election address stuff done by Wednesday, and I reckon hanging pedophiles up by their bollocks is a vote winner."

"Mate, that's BNP not Lib Dem policy," I told him but he wasn't listening, he was watching Linda Hewes ample bosom as she pulled pints behind the bar of the Bar de Dauville, or Whetherfield (Todmoor Main) Miners and Shunters club as it used to be.

Al ignored me and turned and leered at the barmaid, "Fancy a shag darlin?" he said seductively as he slid over to the bar with all the grace of a drunken ostrich, whatever they are.

"You got fifty quid?" she replied with fluttering eyelashes and I knew I was walking home.

"Nah, only got thirty left," he lied and so instead of enjoying the warmth of Linda's luscious curves and ample bosom and the undoubted comfort of Linda's flat over the Club the dark hand of fate sent us both out into the cold Yorkshire night air when kicking out time came around.

We got nearly a quarter mile before Al had to stop to spew up, at least he got the door open first this time, and as he stood there vomiting up what seemed like gallons of foaming John Smiths ale, pasties pizza and the rest who should turn up in a blaze of blue flashing lights but Tony Mulholland, or PC Mulholland as he was usually known.

"Been drinking Lads?" he asked.

"Yeah, they say you have to drink four litres of water a day," I explained, as Al threw up all over Tony's shoes.

"Right, I'll have to ask you to accompany me to the station." Tony says.

"It's shut, last train goes at quarter to midnight," Al said straight faced.

"We can still accompany him mate," I said almost as drunkenly, "You hum Bass part and I'll."

"Bloody shut up the pair of you," Tony said, "What's all this about Pedo's"

"Wants stringing up by their bollocks," Al said.

"Bollocks," I said.

"Yeah, you're not wrong." Tony said, "You know any?"

"Nope," we said together.

"Well," Tony said and he fished his palm top computer out, "This bastard lives in Otley road," he said and showed this school teachery looking bloke.

"Christ I knows him!" Al says.

"Five year olds." Tony says, "Got off on a technicality," he added, "And this one," he showed us another picture, a scruffy druggie type, "He got a suspended sentence for screwing a ten year old," he let the concept sink in, "Boy!"

"Fuck," said Al as he sobered up really quickly.

"You do want to keep your license I take it?" Tony says as he flashes the breathalyzer at Al.

"Yeah," he says.

"So like you were heard saying in the Pub," Tony offered, "These two hanging by their balls by next Friday, I don't care where, just hanging by their balls."

"But!" I protested.

"Do it!" says Tony, "Or bye bye Mr License."

Al was really sober now, Tony went back to the Ford Focus Panda car where Sergeant Fforbes was screwing Doris Arkwright the ageing peroxide blonde 42E neighbourhood tart in the back seat, and Al quickly started the van and we headed off as fast as we could, taking the short cut across the allotments without opening the gate first!

He dropped me round our gaff first and headed home, my head was banging so I went down te garden and sat on the privvy for a while, watching the clouds fly across the moon through the gap over the door.

I must have fallen asleep because the door opened and the creak of the hinges woke me up, "Fuck!" a bored childish female voice exclaimed, "There's some pillock in here." It was Sandra from next door, with fifty something bald fat git Clive Andrews from number 10 looking for somewhere warm and out of his missus way to have a fuck. Clive was old enough to be Sandra's grand dad but he was her dad's boss so she kept him sweet if you understand, the dirty old bastard.

"Your all right," I said, "I'm done."

"I'll make it up to you," says Sandra.

"Not till you're sixteen you won't," I told her.

"Daft bugger I'm sixteen last January," she laughed, "So sod off give us some privacy."

I slipped away in the house and up to bed.

I went to work next day, did me two hours and went home, well what do you expect for the money the Council pay, well we was privatised really but it was same as council like, so we did half a dozen pot holes and then sold the Tar to a gang of Paddies for doing a driveway and lent them the truck for the rest of the day, nice little earner.

I had a little kip before we took the truck back to the depot around four and then I stopped off at the Internet Cafe to check me Facebook.

"I owes you one," Sandra said as she came in, all slim and fit like, like one of them women athletes me dad likes watching on telly, not enough tit for me really but.

"You going to give me one then?" I asked.

"Yes," she said quietly, "If you like."

"Uh," I said and swallowed, "Christ, it would be like screwing my own sister."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because I remember when you was born." I explained.

"No you don't you was only two." she said, as she peered at me with her big brown eyes, sad brown eyes, matching her brown hair, and her yellowed teeth from too many fags.

"Just doing it mind, not going out." I suggested.

"Yes!" she said with a big smile, "Me Mam goes to Bingo tonight and Dad's got Band practice, so you come round after tea."

"I will," I agreed, "I will!"

I got and checked me emails, Donald Duck 333 at somewhere obscure had sent me a message, those bloody pictures again, Pedo's and a list of what they been up to, I felt sick, "Hung by their Bollocks remember." the message read.

My "Promise," did not go as planned, bloody Sandra had set me up, "Why young John," Arthur, Sandra's dad greeted me, "What brings you here?" he asked.

Well I had to lie.

"He's here to see about joining Wetherfield brass band again," Sandra said.

"Er yes," I said glowering at Sandra.

"Not before time lad, thee always did have a good tone on Tenor Horn, well look sharp I'm late for section practice already, make sure you use a condom our Sandra," he shouted "Clive will be round later."

She gave us an evil look and like a prat I went to bloody Wetherfield Westgate Temperance Band band practice, one step removed from Sally Army.

"Try this," Arthur said, and he handed me a York Tenor horn "It's like riding bike."

"On fucking cobblestones and then you fall off," Dan Arkwright the Conductor added.

I played a note, "Fucking horrible, you'll do." he said and suddenly it were like being thirteen again and in youth band where the keen young lads played cornet and lead parts if they didn't mind taking Eric Ethelbridge's member up their jacksy, while I was particular that my ass was for shitting through full stop so I played third Tenor Horn, which is the most dreary fucking horrible part ever written for anything.

"What happened to old Eric?" I asked.

"Seven years," Dan explained, "Should have been hung from a lamp post."

"By his bollocks," Arthur added, "Buggered half the learners."

"That's why I never got on," I admitted.

"Well, its playing what matters now," said Dan, "Vera is off at her sisters so you play second tonight if you would."

It wasn't too bad, as torture sessions go, and then we were down the Flying Horse till midnight and it was too late to screw Sandra then.

Except when I went to bed there was this bulge in the bedclothes, "John," she whispered, "I waited."

"Shit, I've had nine pints I'll never get it up." I said but her hands were on my tool and the stirring started and the warmth and strength came flooding in, and.

"Ooh it's lovely and big John!" she simpered, "Just as I imagined," she said as I slid it up her.

I don't remember getting undressed, or getting to the bed, I barely remember slipping my tool up her well used but soaking vagina, but oh wow did I come alive when she started working her well practised cunt muscles on my tool, and of course as soon as I really started banging her the bloody headboard on the bed started banging the wall.

"John, have you got a girl in there?" Mother asked.

"I'll skin the bugger if he's got a boy in there," Father added.

"No, I just had a coughing," I said, "Ah!" as the bedroom door opened.

"Sandra, you should be in bed!" Mother said stupidly.

"She means your own bed," Dad said, "Keep the racket down eh," he asked and he said "Goodnight."

"Goodnight Mt Althwaite, Mrs Althwaite," Sandra said and she grinned at me in the moonlight like the cat what's got the cream.

The bitch had shoved a hole in the jonny, the rubber, Durex, hadn't she, so I shot me load right up her.

"You fucking bitch!" I said when I realised, "You sad fucking bitch!"

"Alan said the only way to get a flat was to get up the duff." she said.

"Next time fucking ask," I said, "I always wanted to try bareback!"

"You're nice," Sandra said, "Not like Mr Andrews, he hurts me."

"Right," I agreed, "He's some kind of Pedo right?"

She nodded, "He said Dad stole some stuff and if I didn't he would get Dad the sack." she said,

"Was it horrible?" I asked.

"Actually," she said, "It was exciting at first, but then he started hurting me."

I had to hold her, feel her little tits against my chest, crush her to me, "Like you're doing," she added

"Sorry," I said.

"John," she said, "Al says you two are going to hang some Pedos up by their bollocks."

"Shit that's supposed to be a secret!" I said.

"Will you do Mr Andrews?" she asked.

"Can I fuck you bareback?" I asked.

"If you'll hang Mr Andrews up by his bollocks," she agreed.

"Get your legs apart then," I said "Cos the sputnik is about to dock!"

"I think you got that wrong you mean a Soyuz," Sandra says as I eased into her again, "We done that in history last Ooohh, week, Oooh John," she says, "That's really nice."

We fucked long and slow and quietly, "I always fancied you," I lied.

"Liar," she said, "But you fancy me now don't you?"

"Yes," I admitted, "Definitely."

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Tony Mullholland was in the club Friday night, "Right you two," he says as he came across Al and me, "First off Sandra is under age."

"She's sixteen!" I protested.

"For drinking not fucking you pillock!" Al added.

"Yes drinking," he added, "And second there are Pedophiles roaming the streets and lamp posts to hang them from." he flashed a photo, "67 Argyll street, a party, men only, its only half a mile."

"Right," I agreed.

"It's Friday," he reminded us.

"Right," I agreed.

"Rope," he said and handed me a coil of thin nylon rope.

"Right," I agreed.

"So I'll ply the delectable Sandra with fizzy drinks and you two can do some community service, if you value Al's license." Tony suggested.

"Right," we agreed.

It wasn't even half a mile to Argyll street across the cemetery, Argyll Street was all poncy villas, stockbroker villas for nobs and that, surveyors, mine superintendents that sort of wanker, 67 was like something out of Dallas set back from the road with a big porch thing over the front door, totally out of place, it was the vet's once and then some poncy git from down south had it all done up with antique pine, they stripped from the Methodist Chapel when the turned it into a Mosk and it was filled with tat or "Antiques," most of which came from local junk shop.

We found the party was in full swing, so we shinned up a drain pipe and got on top of this portico or porch thing so we could watch them at it through the upstairs windows through a gap in the curtains, yuck.

Old Councillor Maesborough the Lib Dem was screwing the ass of some kid and then we saw the school teachery one with a lad from St Benedicts in their school uniform.

"What shall we do Johnno," Al asks.

"Fucking emigrate," I suggested, "Tell you what, you jump up and down on the BMW down the street and I'll lasoo the bastards as they come out," I said and blow me if that daft prat Alan didn't do just that and start jumping up and down on the roof of a black BMW 5 series.

All hell broke loose as the alarm went off, doors opened and several guests from the party spilled into the street in various stages of undress.

Al looked shocked as they approached him, "Fucking Gay Pedo's" he shouted and I had a brain wave, as I found a sash window part open and wrenched it open wide so as I could get through.

There was this bloke stark naked with this leather harness on him, poor prat, he had his hands handcuffed behind him and this leather hood on so he couldn't see or hear sod all, "Fucking Pedo!" I said and smacked his jaw with an upper cut and blow me if his little cock didn't twitch and uncurl, he was one of them masso-kists what likes pain.

"Fucking hell!" I exclaimed but seeing his cock all stiff gave me ideas, not them ideas but it was certainly something to tie me rope around.

It felt queer handling another blokes cock, fucking thing went all hard, yuck, but I got the rope around it behind his bollocks and pulled it tight, Christ did he fucking wail, that's when I had another brain wave, see there was this sort of little flag pole thing on the porch, so I dragged matey across by the rope around his bollocks and had him step out of window over the low sill and I tied his cock to the flag pole with the rope.

It was funny, no one saw us see, they was all looking at Al and the BMW where he had jumped on the sunroof and it gave way, poor sod was jammed half way in and half way out, his legs inside and his top half out, "Fuck off you fucking Pedo's" he said, as this group of half naked blokes in leather pants tried to get him out of the car before the coppers turned up.

In left the Pedo tied to the pole, went inside and shut the window, some poor sod was stuck in like medieval stocks ass in the air, looking all sheepish, I recognised him from school, "All right Jacko ," I says.

"I needs the cash Johnno," he says, "I ain't gay nor nothing."

"I'd rather starve mate," I says, "I been screwing Sandra from next door," I explained.

"You don't fancy me then?" he says, "Thirty quid?"

"Fuck no!" I says, "No we're going to get Sandra knocked up so we can get a council house."

"That's fucking sad is that," Jacko says as he stoops there ass in the air and his head ankles and wrists through these wood planks, all secured by a padlock, "I want to make something of myself."

I left the pillock to his delusions and snuck downstairs, there was nobody about so I slunk away I figured Al would be ok one way or another.

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Tony wasn't too chuffed when I reported back "Tied up on a porch isn't hanging by the bollocks from a lamp post is it?" he explained reasonably.

"And it ain't my license," I replied, "Have you been giving Sandra one?"

"I need the money Johnno," Sandra explained, "He's got a lovely little cock."

"Shut it," Tony says.

"I hardly know he's in there." Sandra said, "That's why I charge him half price."

"You little bitch," he snapped, "You fucking stupid little bitch." he said as he downed his pint, "Nearly knocking off time, I'd best get back in uniform and sod off back to the station." he said and he wobbled drunkenly to the door.

"Johnno," Sandra says, "Do you want to fuck me with your great big juicy cock?"

"Well I can't use anybody elses!" I explained, "Where, round the bogs?"

"Your house silly, come on," she says and she nearly dragged me out.

Tony was in uniform as we came out, "What have you mad bastards done!" he demanded, "Fucking control are doing their fucking nut, Assistant Commissioner Reynolds has been assaulted in Argyll street." he said, "Some mad bastard has ripped his bollocks off!"

"Tony, he had a mask on, I had no idea." I said.

"Oh fucking bollocks!" Tony exclaimed and he leapt in the Panda car and shot off down Borrowswick road towards Argyll street with siren blaring, I thought lights would have been a good idea, headlights and maybe the blue ones but what do I know I ain't a copper.

We went home, Mum wasn't happy, "Look John it's not right bringing girls home for the night." she said.

"We're trying for a baby Mrs Althwaite," Sandra chirped and poor old mum nearly fainted, "So as I can get a council house."

"Oh," says mum weakly, "You won't want breakfast then?"

"Oh go on then," Sandra says, "You twisted me arm!"

"Do you want a snog?" Sandra asked later on, after our third screw.

"Not really," I admitted, "Oh go on then!" she tasted of stale tobacco, it was like kissing a working mens club, it weren't bad really, considering.

"You want to fuck my bum?" Sanra said later, "Only don't you get bored just doing it face to face."

"Never really thought," I said, "But no, doggie maybe but ass holes are for shitting through."

"What about me period?" she asks.

"You got a mouth ain't you?" I pointed out.

"Oh John," she says, "You're really lovely!" and she snuggled down in my arms contentedly.

The Police came round before first light, Sergeant Giles Fforbes in person, "John Althwaite, I want a word," he bellowed.

Dad opened the front door and I went down in me Pyjamas, Sandra followed wearing my shirt, "By gum you been sleeping with minors as well?"

"I'm not a miner I'm a school girl," Sandra lisped, "Anyway I'm sixteen."

"Cut the comedy, have you seen this before?" he said showing me the rope I last saw wound around the Pedo bloke's bollocks.

I stared, "I thought so," he said, "You better burn it,"

"What!" I exclaimed.

"Someone hung John Reynolds the gay Assistant Chief Constable pervert from the flag pole outside the queers club in Argyll street last night," he said, "By the Bollocks while your mate Alan caused a diversion."

"How is he?" I asked.

"Fucking dead he fell fifteen feet onto his head when his bollocks ripped off." he said.

"I meant Alan," I explained.

"Having bits of sunroof glass dug out of his ass at the infirmary," the sergeant said "Now PC Mulholland has confirmed you were at the Club all evening so keep your nose clean lad," he continued, "And hang them from a bloody lamp post next time."

"Can I get you a cup of Tea Sergeant?" Mum asked.

"No thanks," he said with a look like he had tasted mothers tea before, "I better get back, we're got half the queers in Whetherby banged up at the station on suspicion of ABH manslaughter, I'd better get on."

I stared at the rope and vowed to use gloves next time.
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"John," Sandra said between sucks later as she woke me with a blow job, "Did you know Councillors get nine thousand quid a year for doing fuck all?"

"No," I agreed, "No fucking womder Al wants to do it!"

"You should do it" she said.

"Sand," I says, "Get yourself some mouthwash I want to kiss you!"

"Oi," she says "That's out of order," but she did and she climbed on my cock as I lay there and I kissed her mouth, she tasted real nice and minty, and she had to do all the work to bring me off.

I had a word with Al and he said come down the meeting room and have a chat to the Committee, it sounded all right, so I went to see Stan Greening and Margaret Ash down Whetherby Liberal Association's office in Clare Street, a grotty little place over Mr Plaice the kebab shop.

They kept me hanging about for ages, and then asked all these stupid questions like "How long have you been interested in Politics Mr Althwaite?" they asked.

"Since yesterday why?" I asked

"Oh, and what would like to see change in the next four years?" they asked.

"Get rid of the Pedophiles mainly," I said.

"And?" Miss Ash added.

"The queers." I added, "And pay the workers more."

"What about Immigrants?" Stan asked.

"Oh yes, and them." I agreed.

"Mr Althwaite seventy per cent of our active members are lesbian or homosexual!" Miss Ash exclaimed.

"Right, I got nothing against Lesbians," I said, "Al's got some good videos of."

"Mr Althwaite, please!" Miss Ash exclaimed as she blushed crimson,

"Look Im not saying I want to watch you," I reassured her.

"Ugh you horrible, horrible man," she says losing her marbles.

"Mr Althwaite," Stan Greening suggested, "I suggest you try the BNP if you wish to become a councillor, now please leave." I bet he regretted saying that, dopy bugger.

"Right, thanks," I said, "For nowt!" and I stormed off out, fucking BNP for christs sake, load of morons, spiky haired thugs, I knew they met in the Flying Pig on Rosamund street so I went straight round.

"You right Johnno?" someone asked, it wereNorman Biggins from the Butchers, dressed all in black like a pregnant SS officer he was, see we played footie for the school under 13 team before he got too breathless from the fags.

"Yeah, you?" I asked.

"All right, what you drinking," he asked.

"Fucking cyanide," I said, "Fucking Lib Dems told me to fuck off."

"And me," he said, "Just because I battered that Simpkins bastard when he touched me up."

"Christ," I said.

"Fucking wimps," he said, "What you want, they got Stella." (Artois)

"Pims and Lemon," I said, he fucking thought I was serious, "No Stella is ok,"

We got chatting, "Fucking trouble is as soon we goes out canvassing some bastard attacks us and makes out its us what started it when they comes off worst," Norman says.

"They fucking throw stuff and all," Billy Hillman added, "I went down town hall to a meeting and got smacked with a rotten egg."

"Christ," I said

"And I broke two fingers when I smacked the bastard what chucked it," he added.

"I fancy being a Councillor," I said, and I had a few more jars and I must have signed something because next thing I knew this bloody letter arrived at home saying I was their official candidate for the Warmsby ward of Wetherfield Council.

It's all very fucking well thinking about being a councillor but when you see nine grand a year up for grabs for just sitting around doing fuck all it gets serious.

See I wasn't born stupid it took eighteen years practice, but there was this "Meet the Candidate" night at the Subscription Rooms so I went down there with Al and a few others, turned out he was standing for Whetherby Ingleside ward so well we went in together and they thought I was a Lib Dem.

I quite liked it, talking bollocks to about twenty bored fuckers what couldn't give a toss, "And what do you think should be done about Pedophiles?" someone asked.

"Hang them from a lampost by their bollocks," Al said.

"Oh no!" I said, of course I was going to say if you do that their bollocks come off, but you know.

"Oh," this old cow said, "I thought BNP supported violent retribution."

"Yes but hanging Pedo's by the bollocks don't work." I said.

"Quite right!" the old cow said so I shut up.

Turned out she was from the Mercury, and it was fucking headlines in Tuesdays chip paper, "BNP rejects Lib Dem call for violence."

Norman was straight round the depot, "What the fuck did you mean, 'not hang Pedos up by the bollocks?"

"It don't fucking work," I said, "Their bollocks tear off," I told him. "They need a hook up their ass."

"You ent wrong mate," he said thoughtfully, "Fucking hell if our lads know you wants a hook up the Pedo's ass and the other cunts think we gone soft you could do all right on Thursday."

"Thursday?" I asked.

"Polling day you pillock." he said.

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"Sandra," I says she got home from school around half three, "You know I joined the BNP." she looked shocked, "They think I got a chance of becoming a councillor."

"Oh Johnno, can you wangle me a council house without me having a kid./" she asked.

"No, I fucking can't" I said and grabbed her.

"Mind my knickers they're," she said as I ripped them off her, "My school ones or they were."

We fucked there and then, the sunlight glistened on her brown hair as I pounded her, at least until I saw old Doris from number thirty two watching us and I closed the front door with me foot, "Do you love me Johnno?" she says in mid fuck.

"What's not to love," I says, "I reckon I do, it's like you always been here."

"Oh Johnno!"she says and gave my prick an extra squeeze that sent cum bursting up my shaft to flood her insides, "I love you too!" she said, "Now what about that teachery little Pedo you got to sort out."

"Bloody hell Sandra!" I said, "That's Al's problem," but it weren't because Billy came round with a load of old meat hooks which were rusty or bent or blunt.

Billy had hardly gone before the coppers called, Tony Mulholland and Sergeant Fforbes, "I'd like you to come down the Station," Fforbes says, "And no cracks about fucking trains, I'm the fucking comedian."

"I can tell," I said, "The funny hat's a dead give away."

"Shut it Johnno," Tony adds, "Did Billy bring the hooks?"

He could see them so he grabbed them and shoved them in a bag, "You can come too miss," he said to Sandra, and then we found Al waiting in the Police van, and a couple of the Pedo's from the pictures.

"Lads, meet Arthur Mellis and Sebastian Groom," Tony says, "Arthur likes underage boys and Sebastian likes boys full stop."

"That is defamatory officer," Sebastian announces, "I shall instruct my solicitor."

"Through fucking Tarot cards maybe." Sgt Fforbes suggested, "Because there's no solicitors where you're going, not live ones."

"I must protest," Sebsatian whined so Tony nutted him with his truncheon, that shut him up.

"Right, lets get moving," Fforbes says so Tony hops in the drivers seat and we headed off down towards the canal wharf.

"What's on?" I asked as I saw a copper on duty at the gate and loads of Police tape.

"Crime scene," says Tony, "They're all yours," he adds and he hops out followed by Fforbes and stroll towards the gate.

"Christ," says Al, "Stuck in a van with a pair of Pedo's."

"Look, I never hurt anyone." Arthur said stupidly, "I buy them sweets and ice creams, games for their play stations, and they enjoy it as much as I do."

"What, your fucking cock up their jacksy?" Al asked all incredulous like.

"It fucking hurts, I should know," Sandra adds.

"Oh yes, they really love it!" Arthur continued, "I love children."

"Fuck, you're seriously fucked up." Al says.

"Totally fucked, totally." Sandra agreed.

"Needs fucking killing," Al added.

"Steady on Al," I said, "Christ."

Sebastian looks really worried as he sat with his hands handcuffed behind him, he looked at Alf and Alf looked at him and then.

"Run!" Sebastian says and so we all legged it, just like that, we legged it, of course with that the coppers started coming back with that big daft German Shepherd dog Alf Grimsdale laughingly called a Police dog dragging behind because he was so over fed and ever got a walk except round the garden when it fancied a shit, anyway they headed us off towards where the railway crossed canal at an angle except Al climbed the wall up to the railway line and I gave Sandra a leg up and climbed up me self and the Pedo's was so out of condition they was way behind and handcuffed anyway and they was left panicking, cause they couldn't climb it.

"Swim for it you daft sods," I said and they realised, it was their only hope, so they dived in. not too bright as they was handcuffed but it didn't matter as there was about nine inches water and seven foot of silt in the basin, so they went in head first up to their waists, not that I worried.

They looked real queer with their little legs waving in the air when I looked back, "Daft pillocks!" I shouted and we buggered off before the coppers dragged them out.

It turned out health and safety rules wouldn't let the coppers into water without an inflatable raft so they got one from Morecombe, which took three hours by which time the Pedo's was well and truly fucked, totally rigor mortis, stiff, stone dead.

We went along the tracks for a bit and climbed down by Armstrong street where we had fish and chips at the Chinese take away, like you do, couple of tins of Four X and then went home.

"Johnno," Sandra says, "What do you think will happen to those Pedo's"

"Rot in fucking hell I guess," Al replied.

"Oh I do hope so!" she said like she fancied him or summat.

"Should have hung them by their bollocks," I said, and they nodded.

=========================================

I went round with some BNP leaflets next day, "BNP" I says knocking on the doors.

"What you going to do for us?" people asked.

"Fuck all, I just want the nine grand a year for doing fuck all," I said.

"Fucking hell an honest politician," or "Bollocks," or "Fuck off." was the replies.

Poor old Al was doing the Lib Dem ones, round the posh bit of town.

"You let the students down and the anti tory lobby down and the Yackity Yackity Yack," the Lib Dem supporters banged on, "That Nick Clegg." Poor old Al thought they meant the old codger who cleaned the bogs outside the Town Hall, he never realised Nick Clegg was deputy Prime Minister, and if he did he thought he was a Tory.

I had me own troubles, "What about the Pakistanis?" someone asked.

"Well who else wants to sell fags at two in the morning, all the corner shops would have to close if they went home," I explained.

"What about the Chinese?" they said.

"Well who's going to run the chip shop?" I replied and they saw my point.

"What about the Muslims," they asked.

"Better than the fucking Jehovahs witnesses, and what about the fucking Moonies and Scientologists, most of them are Pedo's." I told them, anyway by dinner time twenty people said they would vote for me and the rest said they wouldn't vote BNP even if there wasn't any other candidate, so reminded them voting was Friday, a day later than anywhere else because it was a day off for the Muslims.

"And if you don't like the BNP write summat nasty like "Fuck the BNP," across ballot paper," I suggested.

I don't remember the election, I had ten pints at dinner time and a few more after tea and we went down Town Hall, I sort of slumped in a chair and then after a lot of fuss the results were announced.

"Ah hem," some weasly little council git said and woke me up, "Mr Althwaite would you please come and check the spoiled ballot papers."

"Why?" I asked.

"There are rather a lot of them," he said, "Please!"

Christ was he right, this huge pile, "Most say something rude about the BNP," he said as he showed me them one by one.

"So?" I said,

"Two hundred and six out of one three hundred and eighteen ballot papers issued." he said, "Said Fuck the BNP or something similar."

"So they fucking hate me," I said "Big deal!"

"But of the unspoiled papers you had fifty two votes," he said, "The UK Independence Party candidate thirty eight and."

"You won!" Sandra said, "Johnno, you won!"

"Fucking hell!" I said and I fainted.

I woke up on a trolley in casualty with a TV blokes microphone in me face, "Congratulations Mr Allthwaite," he said, "What do you hope to achieve by this momentous victory."

"Clear the place of Pedo's" I suggested.

"Hang them from lamp posts by their bollocks?" he asked.

"No that's Lib Dems," I said, "It don't work their bollocks come off, no stick a meat hook up their ass and let them swing from that!" I said. And he fainted.

"Must be a Pedo," Sandra said.


To be continued?
5 comments

anonymous readerReport

2013-01-13 14:47:30
Gee willkiers, that's such a great post!

anonymous readerReport

2011-06-29 10:03:15
AKAIK you've got the anwser in one!

Anonymous readerReport

2011-05-28 22:34:12
Aye Laddie, I come from over Hadrians Wall ( a bloody long time ago, mind) but I still thought this was the funniest story in a long time. But I also agree. Hang the bastard pedos on a rusty meat hook. Positive vote and personal grade of 8.5/10

anonymous readerReport

2011-05-26 14:32:46
Eeee by gum......That were reet gud lad...aa felt like aa wuz there. Tha hast be from there t 'preciate this. ten outa ten lad!!

anonymous readerReport

2011-05-26 04:42:57
What a piece of shit.

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