Tales from the Stairwell

They wee Bastards next door are just takin’ the Piss oot the Polis and everyone else in the block. Yesterday [Saturday] was probably the highlight of the Five Months that they’ve been here in regard to it’s entertainment and disruption value. It aw kicked off just after Midday when the wee Gadgie who is findin’ it hard to adjust tae the fact that his ex want’s eff all tae dae wi’ him, turned up ootside and started shoutin’ and swearin’. He was tryin’ to persuade, who ah’m guessin’ is his ex’s new felly, tae come doon and get stabbed. Obviously the ‘New’ felly didny seem keen on the idea and stayed put. So, ah’m thinkin’ -‘Fuck sake, the Polis’ll be here right at ma doorstep, practically, and the Marrakesh Express has just arrived at Scud Central’. It was worse a few Weeks ago when ah had the Seven Grass plants growin’ at the Windie. The C–ts aw died on me, though, – it’s been a Shite year for ma indoor Gardenin’.Anyway, A Woman from the next Stairwell along came out and politely asked the Gadgie tae eff off and when she mentioned tae him that the Polis were comin’, he did. A minute later the Polis turned up which, for me kick started the Air Freshener routine. It’s the only thing that ah always know exactly where it is in the Flat. Ah’m thinkin’ wi’ ma luck, the Polis’ll knock on the door and it’ll no be Fuckin Coffee that they’ll be smellin. The Polis came and went after a few minutes – bein’ a nosey Bastard and worryin’ aboot next door  clypin’ tae the Polis aboot me and the Bob Hope, ah found oot that Gadgie guy has a restraining order against him, keepin’ him away from his ex next door. What Pissed me off a bit was that the Polis [ Four of them] came away laughin’ and jokin wi’ the neighbours, as if they’d just nipped in for a sit doon and a Fuckin’ Biscuit. Five Months of them comin’ tae that door at least Four or Five times a Week rangin’ fae Four in the Mornin’ to Midnight,  and they leave laughin’ as if nothin happened. Ye could have an argument for effective Police work there, or ye could’ve, like me, thought ‘Fuck sake, is that it ? About an Hour later and Gadgie guy showed up again. His new approach tae gettin’ back wi his Girl, stabbin’ her new felly, or both was to whistle and no’ say a word. For the First Two minutes it was quite good and then it got darker- ah never in ma life expected tae hear an angry whistle. ye always associate whistlin’ wi’ good moods and happy feelin’s, like the ‘Paintin yer fence on a sunny day’ whistle and yer ‘Ah got ma Nat King Cole last night’ whistle, ye dinny think of a menacin’ whistle. Anyway, Percy Edwards, got tired of whistling and started swearin’ again and threatened, again, tae stab the ex felly. He ran off just before the Polis arrived – Two vans and Six Polis, to no’ catch a Gadgie. There was an audience by this time which consisted of me leanin’ oot ma Bedroom windie and the young couple to my left leanin’ oot their windie and we were in a debate wi a couple of Women from the next stairwell. One of the Woman had been threatened by whistly Knife boy and the other Woman had earlier politely told him tae eff off.  Ah mentioned in passin’ that ah had some Zyclon B and just needed Twelve Feet of rubber tubing leadin’ from ma door tae the troublemakers letterbox, and ah’d  gas the C–ts..  The majority decision was to phone the Cooncil and get the C–ts thrown oot. That was in the mid to late Afternoon and it was all quiet on the festerin front till aboot Eleven at night. There was a lot of shoutin’ and swearin’ from just outside the front of the Hoose. This persons rage was centred on ma next door neighbours front windie. Ah’ve never seen anyone so animated, if that’s the word, with rage. The individual wanted his Dug from the flat and threatened tae stab people and smash windies if he didny get it. This had gone on for aboot Twenty minutes wi’ various neighbours askin’/tellin’ this C–t tae shut up, until a Bear of a guy over the road fae me came oot tae sort the C–t oot. Ah thought, the size and weight difference alone is gaunny make this a quickie. If ye can imagine Ernie Shavers gettin’ intae the same ring as a Five year aulds wee brother. As it turned oot, it was a no contest. The C–t, turned oot tae be a lassie and big Ernie couldny do anything. It changed the tone of the proceedings, though and Bunny Boiler effed off intae the night. True to form, the Polis turned up when everything had calmed doon. Things had calmed doon tae the point where ah thought it was safe enough to have a Rastafarian roll up. half way doon the joint ah heard a ‘Polis’ knock from next door and thought ‘Fuck sake min’, where’s the Air Freshener’ ?. It turned oot, after ah’d turned in tae nosey Bastard and put ma lug tae the door and looked through the wee spyhole, that Four Polis were at the door sayin’  ‘we’re no’ bothered what ye’ve got in there just open the door’. Ah thought, Fuck it, they’re no’ gaunny bother what’s in here, then. Anyway,  Twenty minutes later the Four fae the Laughin’ squad came outside, laughin’ and by this time it was the Sabbath. Cheeky Bastards. Ah thought Fuck this and opened ma door and ah let rip. Ah said that whatever they’d been told it was Shite, because for the last Five Months these C–ts have been the scourge of the stairwell wi’ the Polis visitin’ wi’ a monotonous regularity. Ah was on the verge of sayin’ to the Polis ‘ Ah dinny care if they aw got molested by their uncles when they were wee, just shoot the C–ts’, but some PC C–t wid’ve objected.. It aw ended quietly and there has been a Golden silence since then. Ah maybe shouldny have got involved, though, probably end up gettin’ stabbed.

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