�He fuckin� ran over Kafka, mate, what you expect me to do, nothin�?�
Yeah, The Trial flattened like fuckin� road-kill in the middle of Vauxhall Bridge Road. This bald cuntster in a silver BMW watched it fall out my back pocket; drove right over it tryin� to beat the lights. But I am Lord of the Lights; I fuckin� rule those lights. I just stood there in the traffic, eyes closed and I heard �em go red, yeah. Fuckin� magic it was. And I had him. The fucker was mine cos not even some bald cuntster in a BMW�s gonna jump the lights at this junction. One of the busiest intersections in London; five lanes of heavy duty traffic. I got buses, cars, taxis and the biggest fuckin� trucks you can imagine in my hair all day, cos this here�s my patch.
�So Mr Ray, you don�t den��
�Mr Ray? The fuck is he - �scuse my Swahili.�
�Okay, S-Sting� Sting then.�
�And I ain�t fuckin� Sting neither, mate; cuntster with his pop fuckin� reggae and his tantric knobbin� � what you take me for? I told you, the name�s Stingray. Geddit right.�
�All right, Stingray. You�re not denying then that you��
�I�m denyin� everything, mate, till my brief gets here. I know my rights. Even the homeless have rights, yeah. �specially the fuckin� homeless!�
Not that I consider myself homeless, mind. Yeah, I work on the streets but it ain�t my home. Yeah, I sell the Big Issue but I�m no fuckin� loser like most of those saddos with their excuse-me-for-livin� faces and their fuckin� mutts; I got standards. No standin� around outside some pussy tube station for me tryin� to get trade. Junction between Vauxhall Bridge Road, Mill Bank and Grosvenor Road, that�s my patch. One of the busiest fuckin� intersections in London. Lights go red and I got less than a minute to sell my wares. In and out the traffic I am, drunk on adrenalin, shovin� the Big Issue in their faces. I don�t say a fuckin� thing. Just march up and force them to look at me, what I�m sellin�. Shove it right in their fuckin� windscreens. No shoutin� Big Issue for me neither, too demeanin� and anyway, what would be the fuckin� point? Too much noise: engines revvin�, stereos blastin� out.
When the lights go green, that�s when I breathe, have a fag, hang off the railings, metal quiverin� in my hands, traffic rushin� past me like my life. A life measured out in an endless fuckin� sequence of coloured lights. Stop, get ready, go, get ready, stop, get ready, go� on and fuckin� on, an endless fuckin� game of cat�s cradle goin� on inside my brain.
�The duty solicitor is on his way Mr errr� Stingray. You�re entitled to make a call � you want to let someone know you�re here?�
�I�m fuckin� homeless mate, there�s no-one.�
He�s seen the wedding ring; put two and two together and come up with fuckin� ten. I ain�t married, never have been. Ring�s just, you know, symbolic. Seventeen years me and Jan were together. Never married though; I couldn�t see the point. And then, well, we split up. Well, she left me� for fuckin� God! Ha! When they told me, yeah, when it finally happened, it was like this fuckin� great hole had opened up inside my stomach. Hole in my stomach the size of the fuckin� airbag that would�ve saved her had there been one in that poxy Escort we were in at the time. Took her three months to die. Hospital was fuckin� useless. Stable they said she was, so I sat by her bedside day in day out for three month, lyin� through their fuckin� teeth with my �yer-gonna-be-fine-Jan�s.� Fuckin� stable! Yeah, the ring�s symbolic. Had it made out the bits of metal they took out her chest from the BMW that jumped the light and ploughed into us.
If she could fuckin� see me now though, eh! She don�t buy it of course, the spiel I tell everyone �bout me bein� my own boss and all that. I�ll be tellin� some cuntster in the pub how it is, �bout how I gave �my nine to five its P45,� how �I ain�t no wage-slave; I own me � the freehold�s in my name� and I�ll see her over by the bar, shakin� her head. Jan could always see my bollocks comin� a mile off. Nah, she don�t buy it cos� cos she�s the one who sees me in my room at night, legs dead on my feet, leverin� off my shoes with a ruler cos o�the blisters. She�s the one who hears me barkin� the fags and diesel fumes out my mouth, cough with a volcano inside it.
�S�like I said, he fuckin� ran over Kafka, mate. What you expect me to do, nothin�?� My mouth is gnawin� a bone while it talks.
Yeah, I fuckin� had him. The fucker was mine. I strode over, stood right in front of that silver BMW of his. Could feel the headlights warmin� my thighs, see my reflection loiterin� with intent on his windscreen. Had my shirt off and my Florence Nightingale tatt with her tits out givin� him the finger from my chest. Fuckin� magnificent, I looked! A fuckin� 1!! Then he went and smeared me across his windscreen with his wipers didn�t he, the cuntster. So I smashed a copy of the Big Issue against the fuckin� glass. His face stared up at me in a million fuckin� pieces as I tongued his aerial and made to mount the bonnet. I could see his hand on the door handle, the other hoverin� above a bank of switches. So I went round the driver�s door and flashed him my black and gold smile. Next thing the window opens and the air-conditioning�s exhalin� in my fuckin� face.
�What the hell did you do that for,� he said, hand playin� with the fuckin� goatee on his chin. �You�re going to pay for that even if you have to sell that shit magazine for the rest of your life!�
And so I did what any self-respectin� bloke would do faced with a bald fuckin� cuntster with a pussy on his chin, sittin� in a flash BMW � I leant inside and bit his fuckin� face off. It was like this newsflash rage came over me cos I totally fuckin� lost it there for a minute; a real fuckin� Care in the Community moment it was. Ha!
�So you broke the driver�s windscreen, is that correct?�
�Broke the fuckin� windscreen?! I didn�t break his fuckin� windscreen, mate! I just like went to talk to the bald cun� to the driver about replacin� the book he�d run over. And bein� the entrepreneur I am, I used the opportunity to try and sell him a Big Issue. You ask me there was a flaw in the fuckin� glass or somethin� cos all I did was place a copy on the windscreen and the thing just fuckin� shattered. The rest was self-defence, mate cos after that he went A1 apeshit; a real fuckin� Care in the Community moment it was. I�m tellin� you that bloke wants sectionin� cos he fuckin� lost it, mate I�m tellin� yer. Shouldn�t be allowed on the fuckin� streets.�
