Stinkleganger

Posted in Old blogger by Twenty Major on February 2nd, 2007

“Twenty”, said Stinking Pete, “how long would you have to wait between taking out a massive life assurance policy and actually dying for it not to be suspicious?”

“At least a year, I’d have thought. Any sooner and people might start asking questions. Why do you ask?”

“Well, it’s just there’s this new bloke who has moved in about 4 doors up and he is the spitting image of me. The other day Mrs O’Leary, who has lived beside me for 23 years, asked me how the building was going and it turns out she thought she was carrying on a conversation she’d had with yer man a few days earlier. Even the postman said it to me.”

“That’s weird.”

“Yeah. So I’m thinking if I take out a big policy on myself, for a few million for example, then wait a year and kill this bloke nobody will ever know the difference.”

“Cunning.”

“Yeah, I can get his body and put it in my house. Then when one of you comes to identify ‘me’ you say ‘Oh God! That’s him. Waaahhhh. Boooo hooooo’ and things.”

“Yes, we can do that. Without the crying of course. That would raise too many suspicions.”

“So, a year, you say.”

“Yes, but have you stopped to think why this guy looks so like you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, surely it can’t be mere coincidence that someone who looks exactly like you has moved in just four doors up. Perhaps fate is telling you something. And, let’s be honest here, we all know what your old man was like.”

“Now, careful Twenty…”

“All due respect to him, Pete, but everyone knew he was riding young ones all over town. And, I say this with the greatest of respect too, but your mam was a complete fucking slut.”

“Ahhh here, Twenty…”

“Don’t even start, Pete. Do you not remember when we were young and Dirty Dave was sick and couldn’t go out to play football and then we went back to your house and there was Dirty Dave buried up to his bollocks in your mam?”

“Oh Jesus! I’d blocked that out.”

“And what about the other time when, I think it was at your confirmation, she went missing and someone said she was round the back of sacrasty blowing off the Archbishop of Dublin?”

“Ok! Ok! My parents were like girls from Alexandra College. No need to go on.”

“All I’m saying is that given that fact, and the fact this bloke looks exactly the same as you, there’s the possibility that he might be related to you. A long lost brother perhaps.”

“All the more reason to kill him then”, said Pete, somewhat troubled at the idea that he might not be the last of the Stinking family. “Although I’d best find out.”

“You do that. Let me know how it goes.”

“I will, Twenty. I will.”

And naturally I’ll update you when I know more. Now, today I have to go to County Kilkenny to get back the Lotto ticket which was destined for me when I bought it at Pearse Street Dart station the other day but somehow come out of a machine in Castlecomer.

This could be bloody.