Fuck

My mates are a bunch of scumbags. They're always swarming round asking for money. Like a bloody swarm of ants. ‘I've no money,’ I told them. Then they tried to rip my gold tooth out by pulling back my lip. It was the dead of winter. They stripped me and threw me onto the freezing tarmac. ‘Come on, you're joking, right? We're mates, aren't we?’ I begged, crying. But they pulled the gold tooth out without mercy. Before I knew it, the white tarmac was stained with rose petals. And I broke Stabbing and gouging the head sprawled on the floor with my pickaxe The skull