Run Johnboy Run: The Glasgow Chronicles 2 Read Online Free PDF

oan either side ae his foreheid, before starting oan they eyes ae his.
      “Aye…Baby Basturt and Daddy Basturt.”
      “Bit they heard ye?  Ye’ve jist said so yersel,” Johnboy exclaimed, still no taking in whit he’d jist heard.
      “So whit, Johnboy?” Skull shouted at Johnboy, getting really angry fur the first time since he’d appeared.  “They basturts widnae gie a fanny’s fuck aboot a manky wee toe-rag like me…you knew them as well as Ah did.  Aw they basturts wanted tae dae wis tae get the fuck oot ae there before the polis arrived.”
      “Bit, Skull, they knew it wis you!  They could’ve done something aboot it,” Johnboy pleaded, failing tae keep the horror oot ae his voice.
      “No fae where me, Elvis and the doos wur staunin, they couldnae.  Aw Ah saw wur they arses ae theirs, hot-footing it o’er the wee fence in front ae the billboards oan tae Parly Road.”
      “Ah jist cannae take this in,” Johnboy muttered tae himsel, shaking his heid.  “Skull, ur ye sure?  Who else knows?  Dis Tony or Joe know aboot any ae this?”
      “You’re the first wan Ah’ve been able tae tell.  That’s why Ah wis annoyed at ye earlier.  Ah’ve been hinging aboot fur wan ae youse tae come back and get me.  Ur ye sure ye hivnae come across ma Celtic tammy?”
      “Fur fuck’s sake, Skull…furget yer fucking tammy.  Hinging aboot where?  Where wur ye hinging aboot?”
      “That’s the point.  Ah don’t know…bit at least Ah’m here noo,” Skull said cheerfully, brightening up.
      “Ur ye?”
      “Well, Ah’ve jist gubbed ye at keepy-up, hiven’t Ah, ya fud, ye?” Skull said, smiling as he wiped another tear away that hid ran doon his cheek.
     
     
     
     

 
    Chapter Three
      “Right, Taylor, get yer laughing gear intae this,” Creepy growled, swiftly bending doon and sliding a big plastic mug ae tea and two thick slices ae breid wae a hunk ae red cheese in the middle ae them across the flair wae his left tackity boot, before slamming the door shut and disappearing.
      “Wait, there’s two ae us,” Johnboy shouted, jumping up and running across tae the studded metal door.
      “Fuck-pig!” Skull shouted efter him.  “Mind you, Ah don’t know whit you’re gonnae be eating,” Skull said, laughing, as he picked up wan ae the pieces.
      “Don’t start, Skull.  They’re fur me.  He knows fine well that ye’re no here.  Ah might share them wae ye though.”
      “At least he knows we prefer the heels ae the loaf insteid ae they wee thin slices they used tae palm us aff wae at school, when that watery soup wis oan the go.”
      “So, ye kin eat then?” Johnboy asked, as Skull bit intae his piece, leaving a hauf-circle gap where his teeth hid jist been.
      “No bad, apart fae the lack ae HP broon sauce,” Skull replied, nodding that heid ae his, as he admired the damage he’d inflicted oan his piece.
      “Ah’m still no sure aboot aw this.”
      “Aw whit?”
      “Aw you.”
      “Why?  Whit’s wrang?”
      “There might be some heid-shrinker oot there in that corridor, lugging in and listening tae me speaking tae that tiled wall in front ae me.”
      “Ye mean like that Creeping Jesus prick,” Skull said, scowling across at the cell door.
      “Ah’m serious.  Why did they only gie us wan mug and...”
      “And wan piece each?”
      “...the usual two pieces ae breid fur the wan prisoner, eh?”
      “How dae ye know that they wurnae fur me and it’s yersel that shouldnae be here, eh?  Answer me that wan, Dr Who.”
      Johnboy sat doon and crossed his legs and ate in silence.  They shared the mug ae tea, eyeing each other up.  Johnboy hid tae smile when Skull lifted the side ae his arse and let oot a thundering fart that ricocheted aff the tiles ae the cell.
      “So…is there a heaven then?” Johnboy finally asked him, wance they stoapped laughing at Skull’s disgusting habits and settled doon tae some mair