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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