9 Dead Gay Guys Page #2

It was detox week, Kenny.

He was a murderer, Byron!

I freaking didn't know

that he was a murderer at the time, Kenny!

Most cases you stick your hand down a guy's pocket

you expect to find a wallet,

not a fricking cattle prod!

You know you're gonna have to go to the police.

You're gonna have to hand it in.

It's a piece of evidence.

And what would you like me to tell them?

'Ah, could I have a description of the

murderer please?'

Oh, he had a 3-inch willy, sir.

He had a 3-inch willy?

Aye.

You ever been in a dark room, Kenny?

It's dark as shite, can't see f***-all.

This murderer, I know he had a 3-inch willy

and that's about all I know about him.

Well if it was that dark, Byron

How did you even know that?

It wasn't even as long as my fist.

Finding your best mate broke,

and back on the booze,

was probably bad enough already.

But finding out that he's been blowing queers

to subsidize his booze is presumably worse.

However, finding out that the queen's been

electrocuted

by a gay guy with a cattle prod

and a 3-inch willy

was really queer news, ain't it?

I guess, as such, Kenny could be forgiven

for thinking that things could hardly get any worse.

I was to prove him wrong of course!

What the frig!

What's the matter now?

You tried to kiss me!

No.

You did so.

You tried to make a pass at me.

Byron

Are you gay?

No.

Then why did you try to kiss me?

I thought we were mates, Kenny!

We are mates,

But that doesn't mean that you can kiss me.

I mean mates don't go around kissing each other

whenever they feel like it.

Give us a blow job.

Kenny this is a Class 5 Offensive Weapon.

Give us a blow job, or else...

Byron, there's no way I'm going to give you a blow job.

Do you understand?

Oh, come on, Kenny.

This isn't real gay sex.

It's not as if it's

Anal, or arsehole, or sphincter or shitter

or bumm banger or butt f***er

or penetrative type sex.

You for real? Are you?

Only messing, Kenny.

Byron, you've changed.

You've really changed, you know that?

I guess Kenny had a point.

I guess I had changed.

London must have changed me.

I mean, I had never asked him for a blow job before.

That much is true.

But then again, he was one to talk.

I mean, it wasn't long before he was to become

a practicing poof either!

Sure enough, what London had done to me,

London would now do to Kenny.

I need a pee.

I need a drink.

I need a pee so I can have a drink

after my pee

because I need a drink.

Byron?

What?

You got any of that money left on you?

Here's my last fiver,

the one and only.

I think we should spend it now

on breakfast beverages and

a liquid lunch.

I agree totally.

Now Kenny,

bearing in mind your present physical condition

which at best can only be described as fragile,

which pub do you feel like you're capable

of walking to?

Two Guinesses, please.

Kenny.

What?

This here's a frigging gay pub!

Not funny, Byron.

It appears to me that this here

drinking establishment

has an unusually high proportion of punters

of a homosexual nature.

Byron, you're not frigging funny, all right?

You see, the difference between me and you is

you look around this pub and all you see is

a lot of gay guys, and homosexuals,

and queers, and buttfuckers, and

faggots and poofs, right?

Whereas me, whenever I look around this pub

I see a way of subsidizing my giro, big time.

Byron, I'm not giving anyone a blow job.

Kenny, don't look at it as a blow job.

See it as work:

Legitimate, lucrative work.

I'm not giving anyone a blow job, all right?

Face it, Kenny, would I ask you to give anyone

a blow job?

I wouldn't do that.

to anyone I wouldn't...

Just Jeff.

Jeff?

Aye, Jeff.

Are you for real, are you?

What?

Kenny!

Byron, there's just no frigging way, all right?

Look do you want to be ever gainfully employed, or what?

Byron, I'd rather be another pathetic paddy

sleeping on the streets of London,

starving, freezing to death

than gainfully employed in that sort of work, all right?

- That sort of work is it now?

- Yeah.

Welcome to my country cottage.

It's a little cramped,

But I'm sure it will do.

Kenny...

Breakfast is ready....

Slower, slower, slower.

That's it, no,

Now that's too slow.

Split the difference,

Split the difference.

I know what you're thinking.

You're probably thinking 'how could he?'

But take it from me, and I should know,

It was an easy choice to make.

I mean, did Kenny really want to be

just another homeless impoverished paddy

sleeping on the streets of London?

Did he frig!

Thank you

- You did very well.

- Thanks.

For a beginner, excellent.

Thanks Jeff

And anyway, it's only a blow job.

I mean, it's not like it was real gay sex or anything.

It's like it was anal, arsehole, sphincter,

shitter bum bang, penetrative type sex.

No, all that Kenny was to do later.

So Kenny,

Who are you sleeping with at the moment?

I'm staying at Byron's.

What?

A big boy like you crammed

into that tight, rancid little hole?

Well, you know, you can always stay with me.

I've got plenty of room.

Outlived the wife by at least a decade.

Jeff, the horny bugger,

had literally shagged his wife into an early grave.

She died right there on the marital bed.

That was at least a decade ago.

And Jeff, true to her memory,

Jeff hadn't slept with another woman since.

Entrez, Kenny dear.

Wow, Jeff

It's a, a big bed you have there.

Oh, Kenny.

Darling, you are showing your age.

I've seen much bigger!

But then again,

I'm centuries older than you are.

Oh, I've been a terrible slut,

I have.

You know, I've had, and been had,

Sit down

on beds much bigger than this one.

But never, never, in my whole life,

have I ever been had on a bed

as big as Golders Green's bed.

Who the frig is Golders Green?

He is the queen's lover.

Golders Green.

No one knew his real name.

In fact, no one knew anything at all about him,

other than the fact he lived somewhere in Golders Green.

Jesus H. Christ!

He was very discreet, you see.

He was an orthodox jew.

So, was he your uhm,

boyfriend, then, sir?

No, he was not my boyfriend!

I'm an orthodox jew, please!

He was my friend, just my friend.

I see. Your friend.

Well, would you happen to know

if he had any other friends, sir?

No. No friends.

What about enemies then?

I mean was there anyone else?

No there was nobody else.

We never went out.

We stayed in.

We stayed in bed, all day and every day,

just me and my... my friend.

Blimey!

That is a big bed, sir.

So his bed was bigger than yours?

Well, it had to be.

You see, they say, that's where

he kept all his money.

Why would he hide his money in his bed??

Well it makes more sense than what it sounds,

You see,

They practically lived in the bed.

I mean they did everything in the bed.

They ate in the bed,

they shagged in the bed.

they even slept in the bed.

And they also say, that every time

the queen let GG have him,

He would reach in the mattress and pull out

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