TRAINSPOTTING by welsh irvine

Author:welsh,irvine
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: archivio inglese, cover, english
ISBN: 9780393057249
Publisher: W. W. Norton
Published: 2012-02-07T10:52:37+00:00

70

– Aw, aye, her.

– Tidy wee bit ay fanny . . . if ye dinnae mind us sayin, likesay. Nae offence likes, pal.

– Naw, nae problem mate. Yours fir fifty bar, n that's nae joke. Sick Boy's voice droaps

– You serious?

– Aye. Nae kinky stuff, jist a straight hump. Cost ye fifty bar. Ah couldnae believe ma ears. Sick Boy wisnae jokin. He wis gaun tae try tae set up Planet Ay The Apes Wi wee Maria Anderson, this junky he'd been fucking on and oaf for a few months. The cunt wanted tae pimp her oot. Ah felt sickened at what he'd come tae, what we'd aw come tae and started tae envy Spud again. Ah pull um aside. – Whit's the fuckin score?

– The score is ah'm looking eftir numero uno. Whit's your fuckin problem? When did you go intae social work?

– This is fuckin different Ah dinnae ken whit the fuck's gaun oan Wi you mate, ah really dinnae.

– So you're Mister fuckin Squeaky Clean now, eh?

– Naw, bit ah dinnae fuck ower any cunt else.

– Git ootay ma face. Tell us it wisnae you thit turned Tommy oantae Seeker n that crowd. His eyes wir crystal clear and treacherous, untainted by conscience or compassion. He turned away n moved back ower tae Planet Ay The Apes.

Ah wis gaunny say thit Tommy hud a choice; wee Maria disnae. Aw that would huv done wis precipitate an argument aboot whair choice began and ended. How many shots does it take before the concept ay choice becomes obsolete? Wish tae fuck ah knew. Wish tae fuck ah knew anything.

As if oan cue, Tommy came intae the pub; follayed by Second Prize, whae wis guttered. Tommy's started using. He nivir used before. It's probably our fault; probably ma fault. Speed wis cywis Tommy's drag. Lizzy's kicked um intae touch. He's awfay quiet, awfay subdued. Second Prize isnae

– The Rent Boy knocks it oaf! Hey'. Ya fuckin cunt thit ye are! he shouts, crushin ma hand.

A chorus ay 'there's only one Mark Renton' echoes through–out the pub. Auld, toothless Willie Shane is giein it laldy. So's Beggars's grandfaither, a nice auld cunt Wi one leg. Beggars and twoly his psychotic friends whae ah dinnae even ken ur singing, so's Sick Boy n Billy, even ma Ma. Tommy slaps us oan the back. – Nice one ma man, he sais. Then: – Goat any smack?

Ah tell um tae forget it, leave it alane while he still can. He tells us, aw the cocky cunt like, thit he can handle it. Seems tae me ah've heard that line before. Ah've spun it masel, n probably ah'll dae so again.

Ah'm surrounded by the cunts thit ur closest tae us; but ah've nivir felt so alone. Nivir in ma puff.

Planet Ay The Apes hus insinuated hissel intae the company. The thought ay that cunt shaggin wee Maria Anderson is not aesthetically appealing. The thought ay that cunt shaggin anybody isnae aesthetically appealing. If he tries tae talk tae ma Ma, ah'll gless the fucker's primate pus.

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