One Last Go Before It's All Over
3 o’clock and bouncers have had hands on us and no-one’s pulled so there’s only one fucking option. Ajan, on account of his short-sightedness or maybe a side effect of the 16 pints, picks a 6 foot 5, 100 kilo fucker to have a dance with. Vision’s not too good in the early morning mist so when he launches his infamous uppercut it’s not the gorilla he sends into orbit but instead it’s the spectator and only slightly fairer half Miss. Gorilla who gets a fist in the cranium. Ajan’s fucked. His real enemy’s anger has made him more sober and more drunk at the same time, eye popping, growing taller, spitting rage and fire. Ajan’s day of reckoning is here, final showdown, time’s up etc etc. time but first, before he says the big cheerio to the world he knows and loves, he does a bent over somersault , howls, and lets loose with pink purple orange rainbow of vomit and agony onto the dewy street. Famous final act of defiance before the end.
Crusoe, chuckling at my shoulder with an empty can of superbrew crumpled in his fist, turns to me: ‘Well at least we know who’s been on the girly cocktails all night eh?’