strike Bug Number One again, just as it turnin’ to run away. Down it come, waftin’, like a sheet of paper, slow but fast. Mus step back so I got space to smash it with the fry pan, but is tricky to tell where it gonna land.
Sabe pounces forward, teeth bared and hackles high, right under my feet. Bug hit the floor and Sabreboy be snappin’ in its general direction. I bend over my dog and strike with the fry pan, but the bug done move the second its legs hit the ground. Clang! The fry pan connects with concrete, jarrin’ my wrist and bendin’ in two like a pranged car bonnet. Flame of pain leap up my arm. Cuss it. Sis leap forward, slicin’ the air with her carver, lickety-split quick as the bug. Bug got a head start and scurryin’ straight back up the wall. Out of arm’s reach, it turns round. I swear, it stops and stares at us. Its antennas quiverin’ in the air, like it takin’ time to take note of our smell. Red eyes on either side of its mug fix first on Sis, then on Mustaph, then on me.
Sabretooth does a wee on the floor.
Satisfied with itself, the bug swaggers off up the wall.
Well, well, well
say Sis.
See what we got here
. She bend down and pick somethin’ from the ground.
It’s about eighteen inches long. A schnozzle, severed from the point where it joined the bug head. Sucker ain’t got no sucker no more. Sis hold it up in one hand, her knife in the other, pride on her face. She’s my Sister Rambo.
Looks like we got ourselves the evidence we after
.
Forensics
Sabre havin’ a good sniff and a lick, like he tryin’ to absorb clues as to what ingredients make up a giant bedbug proboscis. Look to me like it ain’t so tasty. Schnozzle is reddish brown, razor sharp at the tip, for stabbin’ through your skin. I figure that help them bugs dig good and deep on whatever tragic soul it is they slurpin’ from.
Sis pick it up by the end and jab the air with it like a cutlass.
Yargh!
she go, like a mental pirate.
Yargh!
Stop it, Sis
.
She peer into the end of it.
All hollow. Guess it just a giant blood-straw
. She sniff it, wrinkle her nose.
Smell worse than school dinner
.
I take it off her, have a sniff myself. Sis is right. It smells like stewed bones. Makes me shiver.
Mustaph grab it from me, take a sniff also. He breaks into a big smile.
Oh, yummy yoo
.
My friends are too sick.
So what we gonna do?
Sis smile.
Like you say. Evidence, yeah? Let’s go present it to Big Auntie
.
Sis always refer to her mum as Big Auntie, like Big Auntie be the name printed on her birth certificate.
I have a realization. Mum. Finally, she goin’ to have to believe me. She’ll stop suspectin’ me, say sorry good and proper. Makes me feel all light, after the fierceness of our bullet-hole battle.
Big Auntie ain’t back yet from Pow-Wowin’ with the authorities. She oughta be back. We need her here in The Finger, see our evidence, form a plan. So we go through her flat, head towards ours, see if Mum be there.
But as we makin’ our way down the stairwell, who do we come face to face with but oinkboy Compo – with two uniformed coppers and a inspector sportin’ a genuine detective overcoat.
Compo got one of them faces like a dented shovel. Nose pokin’ at you and chin juttin’ out like a muddied blade. Nothin’ he like more than diggin’ the dirt, yeah?
Well, well
. He turn towards overcoat man like he’s his best buddy.
Talk of the devils. You want to know about drug-dealing and similar, these are the youth for interrogating
.
I’m feelin’ my fists bunchin’ up even as he speaks. Sabretooth curlin’ his lip, givin’ a low growl, like I taught him when Compo in the vicinity.
Sit, boy
I say.
Hiyah!
Sis is flashin’ these fellas her cheesiest beam, but I ain’t havin’ none of it.
Yo, Compo. You know we ain’t got nothin’ to do with that rubbish. Never have. What you wantin’ to spread lies for?
Compo and the real police are right in our faces, inspectin’ us like we is just a
Sabe pounces forward, teeth bared and hackles high, right under my feet. Bug hit the floor and Sabreboy be snappin’ in its general direction. I bend over my dog and strike with the fry pan, but the bug done move the second its legs hit the ground. Clang! The fry pan connects with concrete, jarrin’ my wrist and bendin’ in two like a pranged car bonnet. Flame of pain leap up my arm. Cuss it. Sis leap forward, slicin’ the air with her carver, lickety-split quick as the bug. Bug got a head start and scurryin’ straight back up the wall. Out of arm’s reach, it turns round. I swear, it stops and stares at us. Its antennas quiverin’ in the air, like it takin’ time to take note of our smell. Red eyes on either side of its mug fix first on Sis, then on Mustaph, then on me.
Sabretooth does a wee on the floor.
Satisfied with itself, the bug swaggers off up the wall.
Well, well, well
say Sis.
See what we got here
. She bend down and pick somethin’ from the ground.
It’s about eighteen inches long. A schnozzle, severed from the point where it joined the bug head. Sucker ain’t got no sucker no more. Sis hold it up in one hand, her knife in the other, pride on her face. She’s my Sister Rambo.
Looks like we got ourselves the evidence we after
.
Forensics
Sabre havin’ a good sniff and a lick, like he tryin’ to absorb clues as to what ingredients make up a giant bedbug proboscis. Look to me like it ain’t so tasty. Schnozzle is reddish brown, razor sharp at the tip, for stabbin’ through your skin. I figure that help them bugs dig good and deep on whatever tragic soul it is they slurpin’ from.
Sis pick it up by the end and jab the air with it like a cutlass.
Yargh!
she go, like a mental pirate.
Yargh!
Stop it, Sis
.
She peer into the end of it.
All hollow. Guess it just a giant blood-straw
. She sniff it, wrinkle her nose.
Smell worse than school dinner
.
I take it off her, have a sniff myself. Sis is right. It smells like stewed bones. Makes me shiver.
Mustaph grab it from me, take a sniff also. He breaks into a big smile.
Oh, yummy yoo
.
My friends are too sick.
So what we gonna do?
Sis smile.
Like you say. Evidence, yeah? Let’s go present it to Big Auntie
.
Sis always refer to her mum as Big Auntie, like Big Auntie be the name printed on her birth certificate.
I have a realization. Mum. Finally, she goin’ to have to believe me. She’ll stop suspectin’ me, say sorry good and proper. Makes me feel all light, after the fierceness of our bullet-hole battle.
Big Auntie ain’t back yet from Pow-Wowin’ with the authorities. She oughta be back. We need her here in The Finger, see our evidence, form a plan. So we go through her flat, head towards ours, see if Mum be there.
But as we makin’ our way down the stairwell, who do we come face to face with but oinkboy Compo – with two uniformed coppers and a inspector sportin’ a genuine detective overcoat.
Compo got one of them faces like a dented shovel. Nose pokin’ at you and chin juttin’ out like a muddied blade. Nothin’ he like more than diggin’ the dirt, yeah?
Well, well
. He turn towards overcoat man like he’s his best buddy.
Talk of the devils. You want to know about drug-dealing and similar, these are the youth for interrogating
.
I’m feelin’ my fists bunchin’ up even as he speaks. Sabretooth curlin’ his lip, givin’ a low growl, like I taught him when Compo in the vicinity.
Sit, boy
I say.
Hiyah!
Sis is flashin’ these fellas her cheesiest beam, but I ain’t havin’ none of it.
Yo, Compo. You know we ain’t got nothin’ to do with that rubbish. Never have. What you wantin’ to spread lies for?
Compo and the real police are right in our faces, inspectin’ us like we is just a
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