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666 Great Junction Street

Part 28

It had a been a simple matter to arrange. Guy Pistov showed Jock how to log on to dogsrus.com and they navigated to the Edinburgh section where they found two eager participants already aware of Guy's infamy on the site under his nickname, Platinum Balls. Jock was immediately drawn to one message board poster's alias: Lady Lay.

Arranging a rendezvous at Calton Hill was equally easy, as was the tracking of their movements on the site by the police, dutifully protecting public morals and patrolling the cybersex corridors on the internet in order to save unsuspecting citizens from the quagmire of filth and perversity clogging up the wonderful world wide web. They were onto them quicker than Jock could pull down his trousers.

Not as quickly as Guy could pull down his, however, which is how they came to be unceremoniously dragged down to everybody's favourite tongue twisting law enforcement agency.

Jock's tick, Tock, now the size of a golf ball, had made its way up to Jock's right thigh and was feasting contentedly as Jock sat with his accomplices in the incident room at Leith police station.

Ina Kliner, aka Lady Lay, noticed the movement in Jock's trousers and raised her circumflexed sculpted eyebrows to register surprise both at its vigorousness and position just above his knee.

'What on earth is going on in your trousers?' she said.

Immediately, the other detainees in the incident room swivelled their heads to stare at Jock's crotch.

Swiftly, Jock cupped his hands over Tick and hastily mumbled something about irritating boil syndrome. He wasn't particularly well versed in matters medical: his knowledge of ailments was mainly limited to broken noses, cauliflower ears and the various cuts and bruises naturally acquired from a lifetime's swedging and professional pounding of the face and stomach.

'You have a boil that moves?' gasped Ina.

'Aye. I telt ye,' said Jock. 'It's an irritable boil. I'll take it to the doctor's the morn.'

'That and your insect too?' said Guy.

Jock suddenly remembered mentioning the insect bite in the pub earlier.

'Aye, aye. That's right.'

He quickly tried to change the subject. Noticing the crowds in the reception area still standing around in awe of Ryan's black hole pronouncements, he tried to divert attention away from the scores of eyes concentrating on his nether regions.

'What's going on in there?' he said.

'Never mind about that,' said Ina. 'I can't believe you were going to have sex with me with all that activity going on in your pants.'

'Oh calm doon, woman. It's no that bad,' said Jock.

'No that bad! No that bad! You've got a colony of boils and insects gyrating about in your trousers and it's no that bad?'

'Well who knows what infestation you might be haudin' on ti,' said Jock.

Ina lunged at the hapless boxer who attempted to dodge aside quickly but was foiled by his weakened right leg refusing to budge.

PC Ian Wankine intervened and pleaded with the couple to 'Thettle down and thtop fannying about.'

Next week: Eh?

 
 
 
 
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