THIS NORTHERN SOUL ;
TIME WILL PASS YOU BY

BY : LDMan ©

CHAPTER 8 You Get Your Kicks

(backing track: Mitch Rider - You Get Your Kicks)

To the left hand side of the lane is a grassy area approximately the width of a good pavement, lying between the lane and the large hedgerow of quite a posh house. Along the edge of this grassed area the owner of the posh house has seen fit to place large rocks which he has obviously spent a good deal of time painting white. The crazy scooter-boy wannabe (ADY) has somehow managed to leave the lane, hit one of the rocks and launched himself and the scooter off the ground some feet and into the hedge. The back end of the scooter is clearly visible with the back wheel rotating at some speed still, yet the engine is ominously silent. PHIL runs around the corner at some pace only to be greeted by the catastrophe outlined above. PHIL somehow manages to find a grip on his cherished machine and somehow summons up the strength to physically remove the scoot from the hedgerow. In one super human manoeuvre he retrieves his beloved GP, grabs ADY by the back of his shredded shirt and throws him aside like a rag doll as he surveys every inch of the paint work, wheels, forks and steering components of the Lambretta. As the purple haze of two stroke fumes almost respectfully and instantly clears the area surrounding the incident the air begins to turn blue with the type of language one would not normally associated with a driving instructor. PHIL What the f#@%ing hell have you done to my scooter You f#@%ing dozy little sh!t for brains w@n%£r You stupid little c#n^ You f#@%ing, f#@%ing IDIOT ADY (lying in a neglected heap, writhing, bleeding and moaning) Aaaaaaargggghhhhhh! I think I’m dying Get a doctor; for God’s sake get a doctor PHIL (rolling the Lambretta away and back towards home, the Lambretta ‘hopping’ as it struggles to progress forward due to an almost flat front wheel rim and shredded tyre) It’ll be a f#@%ing undertaker you’ll need If you’re still here when I get back you f#@%ing thick tw@t you f#@%ing dozy IDIOT ADY Aaaaaaargggghhhhhh! Ask mum to phone for an ambulance (no response) I’ll find my own way home then, shall I? Oooooooh! Aaaaaaaaaaargh! Ooooooow! The scene closes panning out from our separating brothers, one pushing his scooter in a homeward direction, growling and snarling obscenities as he goes, the other rolling on the grass clutching his knees, legs and rib-cage and occasionally dabbing at his head wounds to examine the amount of blood loss (which, surprisingly, is quite minimal)

Chapter 7       Synopsis