Ex Drummer Page #6

F*** you!

F***in' hell!

My dick's caught in my zip!

F***! My dick's caught in it!

My dick's caught in my f***in' zip!

Next on are Funeral Dress!

And you can all kiss my arse!

Leffinge!

Bunch of bastards!

The following band has come straight

from Ostend!

Four handicapped guys.

The Feminists.

You with the exploded mattress

on your head, you're just an arsehole!

Leffinge!

We're gonna do some damage!

That was crap music! F***in' crap music!

And now the jury's going to decide

who's the winner.

Meanwhile, we're going to listen to

the biggest tosser in Belgium,

the biggest tosser who thinks

he's gonna be a hit in France,

here is Aldo!

We don't need to go on and on about it.

Only one band is good enough

and that's Harry Mulisch.

I don't agree.

Hear it once and it sticks in your head.

- Let it stick, it makes no difference.

It's rubbish. Useless.

I don't know. It's got sh*t potential.

The Feminists were the only ones

who were any good. They should win.

They're handicapped,

they could use some help.

That's one argument.

- Come off it, handicapped!

Vanhegen is handicapped, yeah right!

Handicapped my arse!

If he's handicapped, I'm a nun.

- You're a nun.

D'you know what? Heads or tails.

I'm off.

- It's always the same.

Heads or tails.

- Yes, heads or tails.

OK. We'll sort it out like that.

Then that's it.

Tails is The Feminists.

If I can manage it.

Up it goes. Oops!

The Feminists have won, guys.

- It's heads. It's Mulisch.

No, it's not. I'm telling you,

The Feminists have won!

What's up with you?

I'm telling you, The Feminists have won.

Bunch of arseholes!

Stop throwing beakers!

Here comes the result of the f***in'

rock competition here in Leffinge.

Leffinge that votes for my father.

And my father is a big fat arsehole,

who doesn't know the difference between

a right-wing c*nt and a left-wing cock.

Stop that! Or d'you want me

to come and smash your face in?

Here comes the result.

In third place, Six Million Jews.

In second place, Harry Mulisch.

And in first place, The Feminists!

Come up on stage, guys. Come here.

I've got some questions for you.

Come here.

How come you're famous

with such a stupid kisser?

A few days later Verbeek phoned me

and asked me to call round.

He sounded quite official, saying The

Feminists had a meeting at 8 o'clock.

I had to laugh.

I said, "Feminists? What f***in'

Feminists? Are you off your rocker?

Have you been devoured

by your bald mother?"

He just said, "Our manager has got

other plans. 8 o'clock. See you then."

I went. I was curious.

I knew what they were up to but I was

curious to hear how they'd put it.

Lio said I should go,

that it'd probably be embarrassing

and I could then tell her all about it.

Lio loves listening to my stories.

I went in. I could only just

stop myself from puking.

I told Ma Verbeek she was crazy.

I told them the whole thing

had been a silly joke on my part,

that had lasted a bit too long.

Everyone started shouting and screaming.

Jimmy shouted that

he would finally be a drummer.

In short, Jimmy became the new drummer

and Stef Vanneste the new singer.

Everyone seemed determined.

Ma Verbeek couldn't be budged either.

I said that they'd forgot,en one thing,

one detail

that the drum was mine and

I could do what I wanted with it.

I think they understood.

Do you wear a wig?

I didn't know that.

Later that evening I heard

Harry Mulisch's single on the radio.

And it was then

that Christine phoned me.

I told her about the King of Siam,

that his wives had left him four times.

It wasn't because he didn't show them

any love or friendship or affection.

He was the perfect husband to each wife.

The only problem was his tool.

A dick that I could only compare to one

I'd recently seen at a rock festival.

I told her the singer from Harry Mulisch

dropped his trousers.

And that at that moment all I could

think of was the King of Siam's dick.

Christine started breathing heavily

while I told her

that we then talked to Big Dick

about poetry, literature,

politics and relationships. And after

a quarter of an hour I'd forgotten

about the monster

between the guy's legs.

She asked me

if I could arrange for her to meet him.

I said I couldn't promise anything

but that I'd do my best.

What are you doing here, man?

- It's nice and clean here again.

I had an illegal black woman yesterday.

Strange, eh? That a black woman's blood

is as red as ours?

It tastes a bit different. More sour.

But she had a fat c*nt. That was fine.

- Yeah, De Geyter.

What about Ma Verbeek? Eh?

What?

- Still got her on your mind?

What d'you think?

Of course I've still got her on my mind.

What's it to you?

- F*** all.

But there's Pa Verbeek, all locked up.

- What about the lunatic?

What if we were to let him out?

- What?

It's a stupid idea, but I'd love to see

Ma Verbeek's face if she comes home

and he's not lying there, tied up,

but jumps out from behind the hedge

or is sitting at the kitchen table.

She'd piss herself. Great idea!

Why didn't I think of it?

When?

- Now.

The Feminists are performing in a bar

and their manager's always with them.

That guy's lying there all alone.

Right. OK. Fine. Let's do it.

There's one problem.

- What?

We'll have to break in.

Have you got a key?

Of course I have.

I'm having an affair with the woman.

I f*** her day and night.

We'll go separately. If it goes wrong,

we'll escape separately.

You've prepared this, eh?

- No.

Turn the light off.

- Put it back on, Koen.

Use your brain.

Who lives round here? No one.

Turn it on.

You're crazy, man.

Yeah, sometimes. When it suits me.

Let me trash the place.

- Don't be stupid!

I feel like trashing...

- OK, OK.

I've got another idea.

Where is the old geezer?

Upstairs.

Straight ahead.

Wait a minute, it's locked.

Undo him.

Show that you're a man.

I'm thirsty.

- Let's get out of here.

Let's a have a drink first.

- He'll be down any minute.

We've got plenty of time.

What d'you want, Dries? Wine? Gin?

A beer.

Ma Verbeek.

She treated me like sh*t sometimes.

She whipped me, had a filthy mouth.

But she paid me attention,

gave me affection.

I'm satisfied with that.

From the age of twelve I cycled to

the factory every day on my little bike.

At that time

they didn't talk about child labour.

Rich children went to school

and the trash had to go to work.

Now they make a big fuss about it.

But they shouldn't forget that

our county was built on that.

I'm proud of that.

I'm HIV positive. I've got AIDS.

I've had everyone I can.

I don't want to die alone.

They can all come with me.

I've even had a woman.

I used to play football.

I enjoyed that.

Especially afterwards.

In the shower.

With all the boys from my team.

I liked them all.

But when I got older,

then...

Then it became a problem.

I always got a hard-on.

The others didn't like that.

I had to leave.

Jan.

Jan.

Jan.

Fifty centimetres when it's asleep.

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