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And that, kiddies, was my weekend with Py.  

Well – the whole bloody aftermath of it.   Take that any way you like.


So – where are things now?  

1. Kane still isn’t talking to me.   Won’t even answer his phone or reply to texts or emails, for fuck’s sake.  Fine.

2. Pam ended up with something less exotic than swine flu, but potent enough to keep her away from the house for the time being.   Also fine.  

3. Jenna came to report this.   She looked vacuously at me when I asked subtly about her seeing dinner still around my mouth the other morning.   More than fine.  

4. Then she told me about how some college guys had apparently kidnapped this kid from school for a prank.   Acccording to her, his mother had hysterics, his jock brother was currently (and only I knew how unfairly) getting the blame, and every time Mitchell retells the story it sounds more and more like a Hollywood action flick…   (This is a coherant paraphrase of Jenna, by the way.   Plus I’ve removed all the ‘like’s.)   Okay.   Sounds like that all turned out way better than fine.

5. I wouldn’t actually know – I’ve been ditching school all week.   Couldn’t be fucked.   Had enough to fucking worry about without living the facade as well.   Spoke again with the police, and – get this – some  imaginative old dude who lives down the road suddenly remembered ‘this sedan’ parked outside my neighbours’ house that night, which he promptly peopled with low-life thugs.   Police are off looking for whatever ethnic minority ‘gang’ the racist old bastard invented for them.   What a fucker.  

Point is, when it came to seeking a villain for the suburban carnage they found, they didn’t think to look next door at the pale and skinny school kid with the cold eyes and broken smile.   And that fucking suits me fine, boys and girls.

6. So, at the moment, things are cooling off.   When the school rang to complain about my absence, I decided ‘Eddie’ would have a random moment of kindness and tell them I was “traumatised and needed rest” (sort of true, but not for the reasons they presumed).  

7. Finally – since partying with Py, there have been some random ‘missing people’ reports over the weekend, but shit – it’s a big city, and people come and go, and you’d be surprised how rarely they get found.   Plus there’s been plenty of other celebrity deaths in the media this week that have usefully crowded out a) any strange incidents over the weekend or b) the little ‘mystery’ I caused next door.

In fact, I read the hilarious suggestion today that – get this! – Michael Jackson was a vampire.   Come on – pale, eerie, inhuman, unnatural, fed off kids, lived in seclusion, covered up in sunlight…   Fucking funny!   I laughed.   Then I actually thought about it for a milli-second.   Then I laughed again – because the poor old fucked-up bastard is dead, and the autopsy hasn’t mentioned – well, anything relevant.   And to be honest, we wouldn’t want to claim him anyway.   So – sorry to break it to you, kids, but take it from me – Jacko isn’t coming back.


But did I mention the Cat did?




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