Ri new fulla
by Angus Shoor Caan
Genre: Drama
Swearwords: One strong one only.
Description: Chinge is gonnae come.
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Fur a week shy a' four year A wis ri new fulla, huvin' relocated fae dorkest Englin' tae fun rit ri only decent boozer left wis ri furst pub A ivir drank in, Ri Poacher's Poakit.
Ri gemmes room wis oor wee hideoot, faur removed fae ri hustle an' bustle e' ri brightly lit lounge baur. Dingy wid best describe it. Pool table, dert board, tiled flair an' ancient tables fur furniture. Ri juke-boax wis isolated tae jist rat wan room an' hud nane e' rat pish ri young yins caw music noo. Ri telly ran aw day oan mute unless rur wis racin' ur kickba' oan an' ri baur wis a service hatch cut intae ri wa'. Heaven.
Sa ren ri aul' fulla geid up ri ghost, jist lik' rat, nae warnin' ur nuhin'. We dug oot wur funeral claes and geid 'um a guid sen' aff, huvin' tae rope in wan e' ri aul' fulla's nephews tae take a cord whin only eight folk turnt up.
Rur wis a moment a' solemnity afore we git tore intae ri spread laid oan bey ri baur fulla, durin' which A wis promoted, elevated tae the rank a' aul' fulla, me bein' ri aul'est noo. Ri previous aul' fulla's nephew ren became ri new fulla, cairied unanimously.
Ri baur fulla done us proud wi' ri bun fight. Ham, coarn beef an' spam pieces oan thick cut breed, sausage rolls (natch) an' whit luc't suspiciously lik' hauf a' sumbdy's waddin' cake.
Suitably stuffed, ri big fulla open't 'es gub.
“Gemme a' pool, aul' fulla?” 'E says tae me, gein' me ma new haunul tae try it oot fur size.
“Rat's ma fifty pee oan ri table,” pipes up ri fat fulla, “sa A'll be playin' furst so A wull.”
“Nae borr,” says A, “yous two play an' ren me an' ri queer fulla'll take yis oan et doubles.”
“A'm no' styin',” says ri queer fulla, “A'v git a hoat date so A huv.”
“A play pool,” says ri new fulla, “if yu'r shoart e' a partner ren A'm yer man, aul' fulla?”
“Haud oan rer, new fulla,” says A, “A waant tae see whit ye kin dae afore A saddle masel' wi' ye.”
“We could mibbes play et killer?” suggestit ri skinny fulla.
“Noo yer talkin',” piped ri black fulla, “haw, baur fulla, geis some sticks ower here, eh?”
“Chalk,” remindit ri young fulla, “an' some fur ri board so's we kin keep ri score tae.”
“Straws,” says A, “fur tae work oot ri runnin' oardur.”
Ri queer fulla taen 'es hook afore we could include 'um, sayin' 'es cheerios an' sees yis laters an' rat. A won ri furst two gemmes, pirrin' me weel in front in ri cash stakes. Ren A won annur yin later oan. We wis gerrin' fair tuned in whin ri queer fulla fell in ri door, 'es coupon lik' a butcher's shope windae.
“Whit ri fuck?” says ri fat fulla.
“Rat bastart bouncer roon et Ri Moon In Ri Bus Windae dunnit, so 'e did,” says ri queer fulla, nearly greetin' bit no' quite.
“Whit fur?” says A. “Did 'e gei ye a reason ataw?”
“Aw A says tae 'um wis 'how's it hingin?' an' 'e ripped right intae me,” says ri queer fulla.
“Wull,” says ri wee fulla, huffilly, “rat's nae reason ataw. A mean, is it?”
“Naw,” we aw says rigirra.
“Bastart's faur too handy wi' 'es hauns so 'e is,” opined ri black fulla.
Ri baur fulla brung towels an' stertit dabbin' et ri queer fulla's face. Ri big fulla gote rat luk aboot 'um an' we kent whit wis comin'. The rest e' us piled oot intae ri street, lea'in' ri baur fulla tae fix ri queer fulla up. It wisnae faur tae Ri Moon In Ri Bus Windae an' ri big fulla led ri wye, rollin' up 'es sleeves in readiness. Tae be absalutely fair, A jist wint alang tae haud ri jaikits, ma pugilistic days a dim an' distant memory bit ri big fulla wis weel up fur it.
Ri bouncer bastart didnae staun a chance, no' wi 'es back tae ri big fulla. A kick tae ri back e' 'es knee an' 'e wint doon lik' a sack a' shite an' it wis gemme ower. We ackshly hud tae drag ri big fulla aff in ri en' ur 'ed a' kilt ri bouncer bastart fur shair. 'E wisnae even sweatin'.
“D'ye ken whit rat wis fur?” says ri young fulla tae ri bouncer bastart, right in 'es sair face. “Touch ony a' ma freens again an' A'll make a right mess e' ye. Ye gote rat, ya big fanny? Eh?”
“C'moan,” says ri skinny fulla, “A'v two lifes left et ri killer an' A fair fancy ma chances ris tum.”
Swearwords: One strong one only.
Description: Chinge is gonnae come.
_____________________________________________________________________
Fur a week shy a' four year A wis ri new fulla, huvin' relocated fae dorkest Englin' tae fun rit ri only decent boozer left wis ri furst pub A ivir drank in, Ri Poacher's Poakit.
Ri gemmes room wis oor wee hideoot, faur removed fae ri hustle an' bustle e' ri brightly lit lounge baur. Dingy wid best describe it. Pool table, dert board, tiled flair an' ancient tables fur furniture. Ri juke-boax wis isolated tae jist rat wan room an' hud nane e' rat pish ri young yins caw music noo. Ri telly ran aw day oan mute unless rur wis racin' ur kickba' oan an' ri baur wis a service hatch cut intae ri wa'. Heaven.
Sa ren ri aul' fulla geid up ri ghost, jist lik' rat, nae warnin' ur nuhin'. We dug oot wur funeral claes and geid 'um a guid sen' aff, huvin' tae rope in wan e' ri aul' fulla's nephews tae take a cord whin only eight folk turnt up.
Rur wis a moment a' solemnity afore we git tore intae ri spread laid oan bey ri baur fulla, durin' which A wis promoted, elevated tae the rank a' aul' fulla, me bein' ri aul'est noo. Ri previous aul' fulla's nephew ren became ri new fulla, cairied unanimously.
Ri baur fulla done us proud wi' ri bun fight. Ham, coarn beef an' spam pieces oan thick cut breed, sausage rolls (natch) an' whit luc't suspiciously lik' hauf a' sumbdy's waddin' cake.
Suitably stuffed, ri big fulla open't 'es gub.
“Gemme a' pool, aul' fulla?” 'E says tae me, gein' me ma new haunul tae try it oot fur size.
“Rat's ma fifty pee oan ri table,” pipes up ri fat fulla, “sa A'll be playin' furst so A wull.”
“Nae borr,” says A, “yous two play an' ren me an' ri queer fulla'll take yis oan et doubles.”
“A'm no' styin',” says ri queer fulla, “A'v git a hoat date so A huv.”
“A play pool,” says ri new fulla, “if yu'r shoart e' a partner ren A'm yer man, aul' fulla?”
“Haud oan rer, new fulla,” says A, “A waant tae see whit ye kin dae afore A saddle masel' wi' ye.”
“We could mibbes play et killer?” suggestit ri skinny fulla.
“Noo yer talkin',” piped ri black fulla, “haw, baur fulla, geis some sticks ower here, eh?”
“Chalk,” remindit ri young fulla, “an' some fur ri board so's we kin keep ri score tae.”
“Straws,” says A, “fur tae work oot ri runnin' oardur.”
Ri queer fulla taen 'es hook afore we could include 'um, sayin' 'es cheerios an' sees yis laters an' rat. A won ri furst two gemmes, pirrin' me weel in front in ri cash stakes. Ren A won annur yin later oan. We wis gerrin' fair tuned in whin ri queer fulla fell in ri door, 'es coupon lik' a butcher's shope windae.
“Whit ri fuck?” says ri fat fulla.
“Rat bastart bouncer roon et Ri Moon In Ri Bus Windae dunnit, so 'e did,” says ri queer fulla, nearly greetin' bit no' quite.
“Whit fur?” says A. “Did 'e gei ye a reason ataw?”
“Aw A says tae 'um wis 'how's it hingin?' an' 'e ripped right intae me,” says ri queer fulla.
“Wull,” says ri wee fulla, huffilly, “rat's nae reason ataw. A mean, is it?”
“Naw,” we aw says rigirra.
“Bastart's faur too handy wi' 'es hauns so 'e is,” opined ri black fulla.
Ri baur fulla brung towels an' stertit dabbin' et ri queer fulla's face. Ri big fulla gote rat luk aboot 'um an' we kent whit wis comin'. The rest e' us piled oot intae ri street, lea'in' ri baur fulla tae fix ri queer fulla up. It wisnae faur tae Ri Moon In Ri Bus Windae an' ri big fulla led ri wye, rollin' up 'es sleeves in readiness. Tae be absalutely fair, A jist wint alang tae haud ri jaikits, ma pugilistic days a dim an' distant memory bit ri big fulla wis weel up fur it.
Ri bouncer bastart didnae staun a chance, no' wi 'es back tae ri big fulla. A kick tae ri back e' 'es knee an' 'e wint doon lik' a sack a' shite an' it wis gemme ower. We ackshly hud tae drag ri big fulla aff in ri en' ur 'ed a' kilt ri bouncer bastart fur shair. 'E wisnae even sweatin'.
“D'ye ken whit rat wis fur?” says ri young fulla tae ri bouncer bastart, right in 'es sair face. “Touch ony a' ma freens again an' A'll make a right mess e' ye. Ye gote rat, ya big fanny? Eh?”
“C'moan,” says ri skinny fulla, “A'v two lifes left et ri killer an' A fair fancy ma chances ris tum.”
About the Author
Angus Shoor Caan is in an ex-seaman and rail worker. Born and bred in Saltcoats, he returned to Scotland after many years in England and found the time to begin writing.
Angus is the author of thirteen novels, two short story collections and seven collections of poems. All but four of his books are McStorytellers publications.
You can read his full profile on McVoices.
Angus is the author of thirteen novels, two short story collections and seven collections of poems. All but four of his books are McStorytellers publications.
You can read his full profile on McVoices.