Yer man was in the other night. Yer man. The push bike fella. Don't see as much of him now, do ye? Off the drink I think he is, or too fuckin poor, the gobshite. He was in his poofter get up, fuckin' tights on him, the scrawny cunt. Six corona he puts on the counter, the fuckin philistine, and hands me a tenner. Not fucking looking at me mind, watchin the telly. Primetime's on. Day of the reshuffle this is. I say "Howarye". He just fuckin sighs. "Putting out deck chairs, aren't they?" I look up at the telly. They're talkin about Mary Coughlan. "Wha?" I say. "Putting out deck chairs. On the Titanic." What a fuckin cunt. Another of them government knockers."Ah jaysus," I say, '"you're not another of them government knockers?" The look on his face is fuckin priceless. "You're kidding," he says in his faggy put on fuckin voice. "Wha?" I say. "You think the government are doing a good job?" he says. He's already fuckin close to chokin on his whatchcallit, his incredulity, chokin on it like it's a fat cock but I know I can get him fuckin closer. I can make the cunt gag. "At least they didn't move the main woman." More fuckin pricelessness. "You're not...tell me you don't mean Harney." He looks like he's going to fuckin shit himself the fuckin shirtlifter. "I do.""You think she's doing a good job?" I want him to get all fuckin emotional now, make the fucker feel like the twat that he is. "Don't get all emotional now," I say. He gets all fuckin emotional. Bangin on about trolleys, about how my Mary wants to fuck over the poor, about shite he knows fuckin nothin about. I let him run out of steam. And then I fuckin go for him. I give him all the shit about the HCP, all the made up trolley numbers, all the shit I practise on the wife, then I lean over the counter and fuckin point at him and fuckin tell the little fuckin faggot what's what. And he's about to start splutterin his response when Tony arrives, he wants a taste of that Rioja we just got in, so I dismiss the cunt. "I'll talk to you again,"I say. And he stands there for a second, his mouth hanging open like a fish, and then he turns and gets on his fuckin tricycle and fucks off. I pull down a glass for Tony and fill it up. And I feel fuckin deadly all night long.