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Lying back on the sunbed and sipping upon my 15% Hungarian Green Ginger wine at £2.95 a bottle. My mind creating all sorts of weird and wonderful sculptures from the ever changing cloud formations above. I contemplated with excited anticipation what the coming evening held in store.
     It was Thursday, my favourite night of the week. It would start in the afternoon when my friend Dave came over on the train from Liverpool. We would consume vast amounts of alcohol before meeting a few of our friends in the King Street Café Bar and embarking on a short pub crawl. This invariably concluded at Palm Court, one of several night clubs in the small seaside town of Westport.
     Both nineteen years old, we currently enjoyed a life of leisure on the dole. Having met two years prior, whilst studying on the same 'fast track to nowhere' course at college.
     'Tonight's the night Gaz! This boy's going to cop.'
     Turning my attention away from the large breasted witch on a broomstick I'd just visualised floating through the sky, I looked over to see Dave standing there clutching a bottle of cheap 13% Bulgarian red. Like me his criteria for choosing a good wine being based entirely upon its price and strength. The quality was of no importance. In all honesty neither of us even liked wine.
     'Alright Dave! Didn't hear you arrive. Take a pew,' I added, motioning towards the sunbed my mother had long since vacated.
     'What's the plan then?'
     'Thought we'd head out around seven,' I replied, handing over a corkscrew. 'Perhaps go to Smarty's for a drink before meeting the others at the Café Bar.'
     'Cool! Who are the others?'
     'Fuck knows! Still waiting for someone to call.'
     'What's that you're swigging?'
     'Some Green Ginger shit. Fifteen per cent. Have a taste,' I said handing over the bottle.
     'Still got that tortoise I see,' he said, noticing it charging across the grass. 'I'm telling you mate, that thing's a walking pot of gold.'
     'Bollocks!'
     He was still going on about the importance of getting it insured against theft, when my mother came down the garden to tell me Jeff was on the phone. We actually called him 'Bullshit' Jeff due to the amount of shit he spoke. He was pretty harmless once you got to know him, he just couldn't control what came out of his mouth.
     'Back in a minute.'
     Making my way into the house I wondered how much crap he would attempt to spurt down the phone.
     'Hello!'
     'Hi Gaz. Where are we meeting?'
     'King Street Café Bar at eight.'
     'Excellent! I'm going to get a bird tonight. I'm already on the Special Brew.'
     'No shit. Is James coming tonight?'
     'Yeah, he's calling round mine at seven.'
     'Excellent! I'll see you later then.'
     'Yeah, no problem. I've actually got a bird here now. I had to peel her lips off me cock to come and phone you.'
     'No shit. See you at eight.'
     Returning to the garden I found Dave still going on about the bloody tortoise. He was asking my mother how many people knew of its whereabouts and whether they could be trusted.
     'Bullshit says he'll meet us in the Café Bar with James at eight.'
     'Not that fat bastard! I hope he doesn't wear that luminous green suit again and scare away all the birds.'
     It was 5.30pm when we finished the wine and went inside. I then set to work creating some strange pasta concoction. I started by stir-frying a packet of Chinese chicken with noodles and water chestnuts. I then decided it would be a good idea to add a tin of peaches before mixing in some pasta shapes and a jar of Bolognese sauce.
     Placing the finished product in front of Dave I apologised, explaining cooking was not considered by many to be my forte. I however thought it was delicious and wolfed it down with relish, stopping only to direct a rather hungry Dave to the bread bin and toaster.
     Leaving Dave to enjoy the company of my parents I went upstairs and had a quick shower. Putting on a pair of black jeans, a white shirt and some black boots, before shoving a red tie that my dad had once given me into my trouser pocket in case the bouncers at the club decided to get picky. Feeling optimistic as the effects of the alcohol started to kick in, I picked up an old battered packet of condoms and went downstairs.
     It was 6.45pm. Dave was asking my dad if he'd thought about selling the tortoise.
     'Are we ready then?'
     'So you've finally finished powdering your bollocks!'
     'These bollocks are going to be emptied tonight mate!'
     'Lets go then! We've wasted enough valuable drinking time!'
     Saying goodnight to my parents we set off on the short walk to Smarty's.
     'What's the plan again tonight?' Dave asked.
     'A couple of drinks in Smarty's, then off to the Café Bar to meet James and Bullshit. I told Pete we'd be in the Shaft around half eight and Simon said he'd meet us in the Brick sometime after nine. After that I don't give a shit. Maybe Lombards before heading to Palm Court around eleven.'
     'Excellent! I've got a good feeling about tonight'.
     'You think you're going to trap then?'
     'Just a question of who the lucky bird's going to be my friend'.
     'Bollocks!'
     Arriving at Smarty's we headed straight for the bar and ordered two pints of beer.
     It was a seedy little place that looked like it had been pulled straight out of a Vincent Van Gogh scrapbook. It had bright red wallpaper, a bright red carpet and a bright yellow ceiling.
     Choosing a table in the far corner by the window we sat down to checkout the local talent. Nothing. There were a couple of spaced out lads sat staring wide eyed at the red wallpaper, a fat bloke at the bar wriggling his arse to the Doors classic LA Woman and a scruffy looking chap counting his change.
     'I don't know why we come in here its always shit.'
     'Yeah, but the beer's cheap.'
     Looking out the window I saw two young girls walking past. Both had short black mini-skirts with low cut tops that could barely contain their breasts. What I'd do to get into their knickers tonight? I thought to myself.
     'Fuck me!' Dave gasped making the same observation. 'Where do you reckon they're going?'
     'Fuck knows, thought it was only dickheads like us that came out this early.'          
     'Do you fancy a cocktail next?' he asked handing me the plastic menu he'd been using as a beer mat.
     'OK,' I said looking down the list. 'I see there's something called a Pink Pussy for a quid.'
     'You can go and ask for it then,' he laughed.
     I downed my pint and set off towards the bar, only getting halfway before I was approached by the scruffy looking chap.
     'Could you lend me ten pence mate? I can't quite afford another drink.'
     'No problem mate.' Handing over twenty pence I told him to keep the change.
     'What can I get you?' The barman asked as I reached the bar.
     'A pint of beer please,' I replied, after a slight pause. '…and a pink pussy for my friend.'
     The barman looked up and laughed. Even the fat man stopped what he was doing and looked over at Dave with a smile.
     'There you go mate,' I said taking my seat at the table. 'They were down to their last bottle of Babysham, so said they could only make one.'
     'Cheers! You can try some if you like.'
     'No thanks! We'd better down these pretty quickly though. We're meeting Bullshit in twenty minutes.'
     'Are you feeling pissed yet?'
     'No.' I replied, downing my pint in one, 'What about you?'
     'No, but I couldn't drink anymore of this pink shit.'
     A moment later Dave had finished his Pink Pussy and we made our way out of the bar.
     'Hey Gaz, that fat bastard just pinched my arse and winked at me.'
     'Looks like you've copped early tonight then.' I laughed.
     'The bastard! Are you coming back in there with us?'
     'Just leave it mate. It's only a bit of fun.'
     'Easy for you to say. Fat fucker! I could tell he was a poof the moment we walked in.'
     With that we set off on the short walk to the Café Bar, arriving five minutes early. There was no sign of Bullshit Jeff or James, so we ordered two pints of bitter and sat down.
     'Did you bring any stink bombs out with you tonight?'
     'Yeah, I've got a pack of three. We'll have some fun later.'
     Suddenly Dave looked up with an expression of utter disbelief.
     'Fuckin' hell! Something's blinding my eyes.'
     I looked up to see James stood at the bar in a luminous orange suit.
     'Fuck me!'
     'Alright lads!' James said coming over and taking a seat.
     'Jeff will be here in a minute. He was too embarrassed to walk in with me.'
     It was a while before either of us could speak, overwhelmed by a mixture of utter disbelief and disgust.
     'What the fuck is that?' I asked finally.
     'I got it today it's my new bird magnet. What do you think?'
     'I think you look like a pumpkin. If it were Halloween I'd think you'd come in fancy dress.'
     'Do you want to know what I think?' Dave asked laughing.
     'No! Fuck off! Here's Jeff anyway.'
     I looked up to see Bullshit Jeff strolling over with a bottle of cider.
     'Alright boys! Sorry I'm late. I got caught up in a fight outside. What do you think of the Jaffa cake then?'
     'Fuck off you bastard! You said you liked it.'
     'Sorry James only joking.'
     'Have you lads been anywhere else tonight?' James asked, changing the subject.
     'We just had a quick drink in Smarty's.'
     'Oh, I like it in there. Did you try any of the cocktails?'
     'Why don't you piss off and get a drink in!' Dave shouted. Obviously still feeling a little sensitive after the arse pinching incident.
     'Don't bother about me,' Jeff belched. 'I've still got half a bottle.'
     'Don't let the barman see that. You'll get us chucked out. Where did you get it from anyway?'
     'Home. Needed something to keep me going in the taxi. Can you imagine having to travel in with James if you were sober?'
     'Good point. What's that?' I asked, noticing James walking back with a familiar looking bottle.
     'Babysham. They're on special offer.'
     'Right lets go!' Dave said jumping up. 'We're meeting Pete in the Shaft in five minutes.'
     Laughing I downed what was left of my pint and followed Dave out the door, closely followed by the other two.
     The Shaft was just a few yards up the road. It was a typical student pub with a mixture of misfits, yuppies and wankers. Come to think of it everyone in there was a wanker of some form. Still the music was good, the beer was cheap and you could guarantee there would be a nice selection of birds to ogle over.
     'Are we going to go rounds for a bit then?' Dave asked.
     'Sounds good to me. What do you two reckon?' I asked turning to Jeff and James.
     'Fuck that! James never keeps up. We'll be on our fourth fuckin' pint whilst he's still supping his first.'
     'Doesn't bother me. You three always choose expensive shit when it's my round anyway. Besides I've still got my drink from the last pub in my pocket. Bastards! Still don't understand why we had to leave.'
     'Sorry James, that was my fault. Had a bit of a flashback.'
     'I'll just get us three a drink then,' I said as we entered the pub, heading straight for the bar and ordering two pints of bitter and a bottle of cider.
     'Alright Gazza!'
     I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Pete.
     'How long have you been in here?'
     'About ten minutes. Big Phil and Ian Ormous are in here too.'
     'Excellent. Dave's over by the Jukebox with Bullshit and the Pumpkin.'
     Pete laughed and went over to say hello.
     'There you go lads.' I said, handing over the drinks. 
     'Where's Big Phil and Ian Ormous then?' Dave asked, turning to Pete.
     'Playing pool in the other room I think.'
     Where the name Big Phil materialised from was anybody's guess, but we called Ian 'Ormous' for the obvious reason he was fat.
     'Jesus! Look at that?' Jeff said. His jaw dropping like shit from an elephant.
     Turning I saw what could only be described as one of the world's natural wonders.
     'Fuck me!'
     'I wish.' murmured Dave.
     In front of us stood a young girl, about nineteen years old with long dark brown hair, wearing nothing but a skimpy white see-through dress and a small black thong.
     'That's what I call one fit bird.'
     'Yeah! I wouldn't mind waking up in the morning to discover that bouncing up and down on me cock!' Jeff bellowed , just loud enough for someone to take offence.
     'You ignorant pig. You're more likely to wake-up in a zoo,' some muscle bound woman resembling a German shot-putter said, turning to face him.
     Jeff looked at me laughing.
     'Hey Gaz, this bitch just invited me back to her place.'
     'You stupid twat!' the woman shouted, taking a step closer.
     Things were starting to get out of hand when Big Phil arrived on the scene.
     'Alright boys! What's the problem here?'
     'This fine figure of a woman appears to have taken offence to a couple of remarks Jeff made towards that young lady over there.' I replied, pointing towards the natural wonder.
     'Bloody Hell!'
     Switching his attention towards the battleaxe, Phil attempted to calm her down.
     'I'm sorry, I must apologise for my friends behaviour towards your good self. He has difficulty communicating with lesbians.'
     'Right! That's it. You and that other wanker outside now.'
     'I think it's time for a sharp exit.' I said, downing my pint and turning to face Pete.
     'Yeah good idea.'
     Whispering into Phil's ear I suggested that his and Jeff's best bet was to go outside with the lesbo and then run off, meeting us in the Brick when they could.
     'Come on Dave, we're off.'
     We quickly exited the premises, leaving Jeff and Phil to sort things out.
     'Shouldn't we have stayed to help?' James queried.
     'Fuck that!' Dave replied. 'Lets get to the Brick and ogle some more birds.'
     'I'll second that!' Pete said. 'Did you see the size of that bitch?'
     'I'll catch you up lads, I'm going to go back and see what's happening.'
     'Alright Bigboy! See you in there.'
     'I'm sure that fat twats bangin Jeff's arse.' Dave suggested, as James trotted off.
     'Maybe. Anyway lets get to the Brick, I'm thirsty.'
     The 'Brick' had been one of our local haunts since leaving school. Back then it was one of the few places that you could get served without being asked for ID. Indeed with eighty per cent of its clientele being under age its survival depended upon it. It has changed a lot since then. The pool tables and young lads in trainers and tracksuit bottoms have gone, replaced by a dress code and cocktail bar with fancy décor and bouncers.
     'I reckon we try and chat some birds up in here. What do you reckon Dave?'
     'Yeah, good idea. Especially before that fat bastard arrives in his halloween costume.'
     'Okay you can home in first, then Pete and I will come over as the second wave of attack.'
     'Fuck that! We'll toss for it when we get in.'
     'Who are we meeting in here anyway?' Pete asked, changing the subject.
     'Where's Ian Ormous?' butted in Dave.
     'Fuck knows! I'd forgotten all about him. He's probably stuck up Phil's arse.'
     'Is Big Si supposed to be meeting us in here? Pete laughed.
     'Yeah! He said he'd get in around nine. There's also a chance Rob will be in there.'
     'Not that dickhead.' Dave moaned.
     Dave had never forgiven him for throwing up on his best trousers in a nightclub. To add insult to injury he had then copped off with the girl Dave had been chatting up. I didn't particularly like the chap myself. He was one of those people that couldn't walk past a mirror without stopping to admire himself. He was however very successful at attracting the girls.
     The Brick was packed when we arrived. It was split into two sections. The main cocktail area where all the action was and an area made out like a local pub, serving guest beers. This was where we headed first, with Dave ordering three pints of an interestingly named bitter at £1.00 a pint.
     'Three pints of 'Dogs Bollocks' please!'
     'Alright boys!'
     It was Simon. Despite being just nineteen years old, he had the unmistakable voice of a dirty old man asking some schoolchildren if they would like to come and see his puppies.
     'Alright mate! How long have you been in here?'
     'About twenty minutes. I've been in the other bar. There's some fuckin' amazing sights in there mate. I'll get myself a pint of 'Bollocks' and we'll go through. Where are the other fuckers anyway?'
     'They'll be here soon. I'll let Pete and Dave fill you in whilst I go for a piss.'
     The night was young yet my body was already feeling the effects of the alcohol, as I whipped out my cock and attempted to obliterate a cigarette stub that someone had left in the urinal. This is the life I thought, taking a sideways step to avoid a pile of vomit and glancing discretely at my ugly mug in the mirror as I bypassed the wash basins on-route to the exit.
     'Alright boys!' I shouted upon my return, noticing that Bullshit Jeff, James and Phil had finally arrived.
     'What the fuck happened to you?'
     'Don't ask mate,' Jeff grumbled. 'That fuckin' dyke was a fuckin' marathon runner or something. She chased us for about two fuckin' miles.'
     The walls were vibrating to Alice Cooper's Poison, as we entered the main cocktail bar. The lyrics seemed somewhat appropriate as I ordered something called a Jamaican Jump containing four different varieties of rum.
     'You'll be on your fuckin' back drinking that shit,' Dave said, ordering the same.
     'You two are fucked,' Simon laughed. 'I'm keeping with the fuckin' Dogs Bollocks.'
     The bar was packed with beautiful women and young lads who seemed more concerned about their appearance than the girls did.
     'If we don't get fuckin' laid tonight there's something seriously wrong,' James said.
     'And who the fuck is going to want to shag a fuckin' pumpkin,' Jeff laughed.
     'Piss off! I bet I have more fuckin' luck tonight than you, yer twat.'
     'Bollocks! You'll need more than fuckin' luck to get laid looking like that.'
     'Are we going to make a move over there then?' Dave said, pointing to a table in the far corner of the bar where three girls were sat talking.
     'Ok then.' I said, my eyes fixed on one particular girl in a low cut yellow dress.
     'Me, you and Pete. We'll toss for it, odd one out moves in first.'
     A quick flick of coins resulted in Pete reluctantly walking over to say hello. We watched eagerly as he reached the table and made his move. The timing could not have been more unfortunate. Three lads who were obviously with them came strolling back from the bar with their drinks. We could see the girls laughing as a rather embarrassed Pete trudged back to join us.
     'Never mind Pete,' I laughed. 'At least you provided them with a bit of amusement.'
     'Bastards! One of you two can make the next move.'
     'I'll try next,' I laughed. 'Let me know if you spot any interesting targets.'
     'Talking of targets,' butted in Simon, who had been listening to our conversation. 'Are you going to do a stink bomb attack tonight?'
     'Certainly am mate.' I replied enthusiastically. 'I've got a pack of three.'
     'Lets have one,' Jeff joked. 'I'll probably need it to keep all the birds off me in the club.'
     'Like flies round shit you mean,' James laughed.
     'Fuck off! At least they wont be blinded by my outfit.'
     'No, but they're hardly going to be mesmerised by your vocabulary either are they.'
     'Twat!'
     'Talking of twats, Gaz. How about that group of girls over there?'
     I turned to see Dave motioning towards the entrance. There, next to an old red telephone box that blended surprisingly well with the modern décor, stood a group of about six girls.
     'You'll have to be quick though, there's a bunch of lads hovering about.'
     'OK!' I said, taking a big swig of Jamaican Jump. 'Watch and weep.'
     As I got closer I could see that two of the girls were particularly attractive, two were average looking or 'shagable' as Jeff would term them, whilst the other two were just downright 'pig ugly' to anyone with a decent set of eyes.
     'Hello girls! I hope you don't mind me coming over. I'm with my friends over there.' I said pointing. 'We were wondering if you were going to a club later?'
     'Probably,' said one of the average looking ones. 'We're not sure which one yet.'
     'We're going to Palm Court. It's normally a really good night on a Thursday. You're welcome to come and join us if you fancy. We're going to Lombards first, there's a karaoke on so we usually have quite a good laugh.'
     'We've just come from there. It was empty.' Piped up one of the moose.
     'Too early,' I replied noticing that she was even uglier than I had first realised. She also had a piece of meat stuck to one of her six chins and no matter how much I tried, I could not draw my eyes away from it.
     I was just in the process of telling her chin that it doesn't normally liven up until after ten o'clock, when Jeff interrupted me. He had decided to come over and give me some moral support.
     'So, which one of you beauties fancies a shag?'
     The deathly silence from their utter disbelief, was only interrupted by my laughter. I couldn't help it. Any chance of distancing myself from the brutal honesty of Jeff was lost. Their lack of response was understandable. They didn't need to. They just looked at each other, picked up their drinks and moved to another area of the bar.
     'What happened?' Dave asked, coming over with the others.
     'Gaz got blown out,' Jeff blurted.
     'You stupid bastard!' I said, still laughing. 'No wonder you're still a fuckin' virgin.'
     'Cheeky twat! This dick's seen more fuckin' action than a courgette in the kitchen of a fuckin' nunnery.' Boomed Jeff, proudly patting his bollocks.
     'Oh shit, here comes that dickhead Rob,' Dave groaned.
     'Who the fuck's he?' Simon asked, who had not met him before.
     'Some slimeball that Gaz occasionally associates with.'
     I turned to see Rob walking towards us. He was wearing a pair of black designer trousers and a white silk shirt with the top two buttons undone to reveal a thick gold chain around his neck.
     'Looks like a right prick,' Simon continued.
     Dave laughed. 'I think we might have found our first candidate for the stink bomb attack.'
     'Alright boys!' Rob said reaching us. 'How's it hangin? I would have been here earlier but couldn't get the hairdryer to work properly.'
     'Maybe that's why you look like a fuckin' puffed up poodle,' Dave laughed.
     'Oh look, its Prince Charming himself. Not got yourself a girlfriend yet Dave? I suppose tonight's the night right?' Rob smiled.
     'You fuckin' smug bastard! We'll see who's smiling at the end of the night.'
     'OK chaps,' Big Phil said, intervening. 'Lets chill out a bit shall we.'
     'Yeah, relax Dave. I've got a phone call to make anyway. Met a girl the other night, said I'd meet her in the club later. If you're lucky she might bring a mate.'
     I looked at Dave as Rob disappeared into the telephone box. I knew exactly what he was thinking. It was too good an opportunity to miss. I handed him the box of stink bombs.
     'I'll let you have the honour my friend.'
     'Cheers! I'm going to blitz him with all three,' he chuckled.
     'Jeff! Are you going to help us keep the door shut?'
     'Fuckin' too right, it'll be a pleasure to see that toss pot squirm.'
     'You'll have to be quick Dave, or he'll be out.'
     Taking the stink bombs out of their box, Dave quickly opened the door and threw them in as hard as he could. Piling our weight against the door we watched in anticipation.

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