much
else.’
He flung the
controller down on to the table and sipped his drink.
‘Feeling better
now?’
‘Yes, but
things are staying undefinable a little longer. I promise I’ll discuss them
with you soon.’
The Cheeky Half
stood on a fag washed island of grass and empties between a vista of garages
and Chinese takeaways. The sign of a black bearded jolly-faced man watched over
its domain with a welcoming smile, as did the landlady - minus the beard.
Inside, the groups of underage drinkers (and part-time dealers) had been
replaced by an increasing amount of elderly clientele after the opening of a
local Bar-Moi. This Starbucks of pubs had promised a cheap drink-filled night
for under a fiver. These promises could not be fulfilled but the scantily clad
eighteen-year-old barmaids had been one reason for ‘da kids not to return. A
hardcore element had remained loyal however, sometimes close proximity was the
only factor in a local pub no matter how scantily clad the barmaids were, but
only just.
Simon raised a
bottle of blue liquid, held it up to the light and gazed through it. He looked
like a crazed scientist staring at his latest potion, expecting the concoction
to start bubbling over the side or shoot sparks out the top. He swirled it
around, squinting to make sure the bubbling potion didn’t contain debris of
living or dead creatures.
‘What the hell
is this stuff?’ he said, rotating it to check the drink under another light. It
seemed to glow green. Simon swished it around his mouth, swallowed it and then
spat a dollop of blue saliva into a pint glass of swirling viscous colours.
‘Tastes alright
to me,’ said Andy taking a sip of his own blue coloured alcohol and taking his
disgusted yet indifferent gaze off of the pint glass and began drinking again.
Simon took
another swig and once again looked at his glass as if it was about to melt or
begin emitting vapours from its murky depths. ‘But it’s blue,’ he said. ‘Surely
it ain’t natural to drink anything that's blue. Ain’t bleach and chlorine
blue?’ He put his drink down, spitting again into his ever-filling pint glass
and looked up at Andy.
‘I’m sure
chlorine is pink.’
‘Maybe.
Whatever this stuff is I’m sure it’s better for cleaning swimming pools than
dissolving my liver.’
‘Don’t taste
that bad,’ said Andy. ‘Alcohol is good, sugar is good,’ he sipped, ‘blue is
good.’
‘No, no. No
drink that glows in the dark can be good,’ Simon said as he cupped the bottle
in his hands trying to blank out the light, testing his glow in the dark
theory. ‘It's definitely going orange’, he muttered to himself.
‘So anyway,’
said Tony drinking from his lager. ‘It's all done.’
They were sat
on a raised section of the pub, partly due to the easily accessible quiz
machine and partly because it contained the only other group of people nearing
their age. A group of girls sat across the way, three of them with pints.
Noticing this Simon began shielding his bottle of blue stuff but kept his
saliva collection on show as if it was preferable to display over the alchopop.
He probably thought it made him look cool – all it did was make Tony want to
vomit over the crisp and nut covered carpet.
‘What's all
done?’ said Simon, once again spitting in his pint glass, now just force of
habit.
Tony took a sip
from his pint and leaned back in his chair with a successful and accomplished
grin on his face.
‘The game,’ he
said. ‘The kingdom is safe and the Princess is mine.’
‘Sounds like
you had a productive day,’ said Andy.
‘Didn’t you
hear? I saved the world - sounds productive to me.’ Tony took another, this
time exaggerated gulp of his drink, both in celebration of a successful day and
safe in the knowledge Simon was embarrassed by his pink-strawed blue fizzy
drink with an ape hanging from it. That and his usual pint glass of…but Tony
didn’t want to linger on that.
‘That why you
were
else.’
He flung the
controller down on to the table and sipped his drink.
‘Feeling better
now?’
‘Yes, but
things are staying undefinable a little longer. I promise I’ll discuss them
with you soon.’
The Cheeky Half
stood on a fag washed island of grass and empties between a vista of garages
and Chinese takeaways. The sign of a black bearded jolly-faced man watched over
its domain with a welcoming smile, as did the landlady - minus the beard.
Inside, the groups of underage drinkers (and part-time dealers) had been
replaced by an increasing amount of elderly clientele after the opening of a
local Bar-Moi. This Starbucks of pubs had promised a cheap drink-filled night
for under a fiver. These promises could not be fulfilled but the scantily clad
eighteen-year-old barmaids had been one reason for ‘da kids not to return. A
hardcore element had remained loyal however, sometimes close proximity was the
only factor in a local pub no matter how scantily clad the barmaids were, but
only just.
Simon raised a
bottle of blue liquid, held it up to the light and gazed through it. He looked
like a crazed scientist staring at his latest potion, expecting the concoction
to start bubbling over the side or shoot sparks out the top. He swirled it
around, squinting to make sure the bubbling potion didn’t contain debris of
living or dead creatures.
‘What the hell
is this stuff?’ he said, rotating it to check the drink under another light. It
seemed to glow green. Simon swished it around his mouth, swallowed it and then
spat a dollop of blue saliva into a pint glass of swirling viscous colours.
‘Tastes alright
to me,’ said Andy taking a sip of his own blue coloured alcohol and taking his
disgusted yet indifferent gaze off of the pint glass and began drinking again.
Simon took
another swig and once again looked at his glass as if it was about to melt or
begin emitting vapours from its murky depths. ‘But it’s blue,’ he said. ‘Surely
it ain’t natural to drink anything that's blue. Ain’t bleach and chlorine
blue?’ He put his drink down, spitting again into his ever-filling pint glass
and looked up at Andy.
‘I’m sure
chlorine is pink.’
‘Maybe.
Whatever this stuff is I’m sure it’s better for cleaning swimming pools than
dissolving my liver.’
‘Don’t taste
that bad,’ said Andy. ‘Alcohol is good, sugar is good,’ he sipped, ‘blue is
good.’
‘No, no. No
drink that glows in the dark can be good,’ Simon said as he cupped the bottle
in his hands trying to blank out the light, testing his glow in the dark
theory. ‘It's definitely going orange’, he muttered to himself.
‘So anyway,’
said Tony drinking from his lager. ‘It's all done.’
They were sat
on a raised section of the pub, partly due to the easily accessible quiz
machine and partly because it contained the only other group of people nearing
their age. A group of girls sat across the way, three of them with pints.
Noticing this Simon began shielding his bottle of blue stuff but kept his
saliva collection on show as if it was preferable to display over the alchopop.
He probably thought it made him look cool – all it did was make Tony want to
vomit over the crisp and nut covered carpet.
‘What's all
done?’ said Simon, once again spitting in his pint glass, now just force of
habit.
Tony took a sip
from his pint and leaned back in his chair with a successful and accomplished
grin on his face.
‘The game,’ he
said. ‘The kingdom is safe and the Princess is mine.’
‘Sounds like
you had a productive day,’ said Andy.
‘Didn’t you
hear? I saved the world - sounds productive to me.’ Tony took another, this
time exaggerated gulp of his drink, both in celebration of a successful day and
safe in the knowledge Simon was embarrassed by his pink-strawed blue fizzy
drink with an ape hanging from it. That and his usual pint glass of…but Tony
didn’t want to linger on that.
‘That why you
were
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