The Sin Bin Read Online Free PDF Page A

off the blood-splattered
floor as Stauner came round. He lay in a mix of piss, blood, fag-dowps,
shattered glass and ... hair. Lots of blond hair.
    'The fuck ' s this?' he said.
    Stauner touched his head.
    'No ... the bastards!' They ' d shaved his head. Not a scalping, but a
fine going over with the number one.
    'No. No. No,' he yelled out. He slapped
palms on the pub floor, tried to gather up as much of his long locks as he
could.
    'The bastards ... the fuckers, this is
out of order.'
    The blond curls unfurled with every
touch; already caught up in the shards and blood, there was no way back for
them.
    Stauner rose.
    He looked around: it was The Moorings.
He could pick the place any day, his old stomping ground. Pulled some gash in
here, he thought, he'd even renamed it, The Hoorings after his successes.
    'How the fuck ' d I get in here?'
    The last thing Stauner remembered was
handing the Adidas holdall to Monique. She ' d kissed him, bloody hard he'd thought, even for Monique. Then she ' d grabbed his crotch and asked what he ' d been feeding that bad boy on.
    'French lassies!' Stauner said.
    'You are teasing with me, darling.
Always you are teasing, no?'
    No teasing about it, he ' d thought. He meant every word he said: 'I ' m your man, hon … happy to supply the meat
for a wee French roll anytime!'
    She liked that, he thought. She spun
round and flicked her long black hair in his face. He could still remember how
it smelled as she backed onto him, grinding in her 'petit derrière'.
    'Later, mon amour ... I have to take
this to safety. You did well, yes? No one was hurt?'
    They were in the clear, there was a
phrase, 'Went like clockwork,' he said.
    Monique snapped: 'How much?'
    'Like we thought, hon, ten-large.'
    Hurriedly, she unzipped the holdall,
tipped her head towards the contents and tucked her shiny black hair behind her
ear, all in one smooth, and very French, motion.
    'Ah, it is all good,' she said.
    'Told you.'
    She leaned forward, touched Stauner ' s chin and adjusted his glare towards her, 'Always
you are looking to the ladies!'
    'Only one lady for me, hon,' he said,
reaching out to place a slap on her behind.
    She smiled coquettishly, leaned in even
closer, 'My ladies ' man,' she
said, then ran off, slinging the holdall over her arm.
    ****
    Stauner steadied himself on one of The
Moorings' Formica-topped tables. His head spun. There was a metallic taste in
his mouth and his ribs ached from a solid, sustained beating.
    Somehow, he found the ability to
negotiate the darkness towards the bar, and put on the lights. The brightness
made him feel like acid had just been flung in his eyes. He felt his guts
heave, then he hurled violently all over the bar counter.
    'Fucksake ...'
    Stauner put his hands out, seemed to
settle. There was a McEwan's bar bucket full of water with some melting ice. He
raised it, tipped the contents over his head in a oner.
    'Hell's fire ...' he said. The chill
rose on his neck, pushed tributaries down his back. In a few seconds, however,
it had the desired effect: he was beginning to function again.
    He recalled getting into Franklin ' s motor. Franklin, fuck me, he thought —
Frank the Plank, Frank the Wank — or any other of the hundred-and-fifty
piss-takes he ' d came up with
for the wee poof over the years.
    'Where you off tae, Stauner?' Franklin
called out.
    'Eh ... the station, how?'
    'Jump in, I ' ll give you a fastie. Save waiting for the bus, eh.'
    'Eh, aye, suppose.'
    If he ' d been smart, he ' d
have smelled a rat there and then. What the fuck was Franklin doing given the
likes of him a ride for fucksake, thought Stauner. Christ, he ' d been done for riding the guy ' s wee sister when she was thirteen or
fourteen. Couldn ' t see him
forgetting about that, even though it was when they were back at the school.
    'So, what ' s the Hampden Roar, Stauner?'
    'Nothing, why?'
    'Just asking ... bit edgy there aren ' t you?'
    He looked at the Next Man carriers
Stauner had stuffed at his