The Wounds

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Dedicated to the first|post communist generation

BELGRADE, SERBIA|AUTUMN, 1 996.

Together again, eh paI?

shvaba's voice sounded like it|was coming from under water.

The wounds had started|to bleed again.

l felt they were biting their|way through the bandages.

A matter of calibre, folks.

A calibre from which|wounds barely heal.

shvaba liked that calibre.|A guy with taste.

Good to see you again, paI.

shvaba, my buddy.

Never mind the... what do|you caII it? -Consequences.

No, when the situation is|reaIIy f***ed. -Circumstances.

That's the word.|F*** it,

The important thing is|that we're together again.

I've always believed that|shvaba would've been able

to say lots of funny|and interesting things...

Get the f*** out of|the way, you mice!

...if it hadn't been for|his war with words.

That's why l guess, it's up|to me to tell this story.

Let's go back five years.|Buckle up, folks, we're off.

BELGRADE, SERBIA..|AUTUMN, 1 991 .

Starring:

W o U N D S

shvaba and me grew up|in a really dodgy area.

Breeze blocks, folks,|if you know what I mean?

If you don't,|who gives a f***?

We have to decide|who pIays who.

Why do I aIways have|to be the Croat?

Your oId man was a Croat.

A Slovenian. -Same sh*t,|different wrapping.

What's wrong with you?

DiaboIa... -We're not kids|any more to be throwing

stones at each other. -Your|Mum's Slovenian, isn't she?

I've heard that SIovenians|f*** themseIves senseIess.

Shvaba's joking,|they onIy give good head.

Suck my dick!

Ustashan c*nt!

Ustashan c*nt!

Kosovian!

Kosovian!

Kosovian...

C*nt!

Kosovian!

DiaboIa.

C*nt!

I'm not a Croat!

You're not a Serb either!|Serbs don't cry Iike pussies.

Get it?|-Yes.

Bro', d'you hear that?|ours are coming! Serbia!

Now you're f***ed!

That autumn, everyone in|our neighbourhood was

into watching the tanks|on their way to croatia.

Well, almost everyone.

Those damn tanks,|Iook at the fiIth!

My Mum wasn't to|keen on them.

It's a shame about|aII those fIowers...

My dad was angry with the|army for forcing him into

early retirement. Thirty|f***ing years waiting for war

and he didn't even|get a look in.

Granny, they're great, eh?

shvaba's Granny wasn't|very keen on them either.

Of course, for Granny|the war was just a re-run.

Good morning, neighbour.

If you spiII that pigs swiII|down here again, you'II have

to give me head and Iick the|terrace at the same time!

You b*tch! This isn't your|shithoIe Dubrovnik,

this is Serbia! -Whimp!|-Serbia, you trash!

Learn what's Iaw|and order!

You've mixed it aII up.|Her Iate husband was a Croat,

she's our. -ours, my arse,|with such behaviour!

You'd be better off getting|your gun and defending those

peopIe there.|-F*** you!

But they retired you, whimp.

Because you're not right|in the head. -F*** you!

Besides the tanks|and the news,

everyone in the neighbourhood|was into dijabola's Mum.

Lydia works on TV, folks.

she'll be important for|our story much later.

For now, remember her well,|just like l did.

What are you doing,|you idiot! -Son!

somehow it happened that|l started wanking that year.

At the same time we were|shelling Vukovar.

Go for it...|Go for it.

They'II destroy the town.

When we get rid of|the Ustasha's,

we'II buiId a nicer one,|Iike Paris.

The liberation|of serbian Vukovar

from the jaws|of the Ustashan monster

is becoming|an inevitable reality.

Paris, my arse. Even better.|Isn't that right, UgIjesha?

The citizens are coming|out of their cellars

greeting their liberators|with flowers, tears of joy

and a thousand and|one thanks.

A year later we were|shelling sarajevo.

And we were put|under sanctions.

You'II see! When the CIA|get their sateIIite pictures

and see that we've piIed|the beef on under sanctions!

CIington!

One of the greatest crimes in|the history of civilisation:

Yugoslavia has been|severely punished

by the international police.

But unjust and unprovoked|sanctions won't brake serbia,

whose people|are fond of saying:

No one can harm us, we are|stronger than destiny,

let them hate us,|those who don't like us...

The wisdom fo the people|is much more powerful

than American forces.

He's Iocked himseIf|in again! Son...

When I put the toiIet under|sanctions, you'II sh*t

outside the buiIding.|Come out of there!

l couldn't have given a toss|about sanctions or the war.

Literally, folks.

l was wanking five times|a day at least!

Come out of there!|-Son, are you aII right?

What does life has to offer|a thirteen-year-old lad?

Just wanking!

Come out of there before|you faII down the bog!

ABoUT IDoLS

My dad had|idols, too.

At first he slobbered|over some croat Tito.

Then he had a thing for|Milosevic,

like everyone else|in our neighbourhood.

Neighbour be quiet! -Come|and see what I'm hanging up.

If you don't Iike it, I'II|hang you on my todger, mate!

BIoody oppositionist!

Son, have you got|a bad stomach again?

F***ing democrats! Is that|quiet enough, eh?!

The things us kids loved were|a lot more down to earth.

Our only hero was the|neighbour from across the way.

How was it?

crazy Kure! Just back from|a business trip to Germany.

The West is a miracIe.|I'II take you there sometime.

I want to go to Munich.

Munich, Frankfort,|DusseIdorf, CoIogne...

Shvaba, come here!

Did anyone pick on you, eh?|Look at this!

Thanks, uncIe Kure!|-UncIe Kure!

ShaII I wash your|car for you?

Take a hike, four eyes!

What are you staring at,|Shvaba? Take that in!

Can Pinki give us a hand?|-Him?

Versace...

Yeah, aII right.|Come on, Shvaba.

Pinki, your Dad wants you.|-Don't worry Mrs,

I'II make them some custard.|Who gave you that siIIy name?

My oId man.

As a child, my dad was into|partisans, revolution,

take an oath,|child-warriors...

That gets to you, you know?

Bandits!

Bandits!

Bandits! sh*t!

comrade Pinki...

suck my dick,|comrade Stojan!

They say that real Pinki|was good with bombs. Maybe.

This one prefers shooters,|folks!

Where was I...?

Oh yes, how did l|get my name.

l was born on 4th May 1 980,

the same day that|croat Tito croaked.

We bawled our eyes out,|folks.

Go on son, have a god cry.

We'II name you after him:

Tito... S. Mucibabic.

Luckily, they were shocked|in the city hall.

They wanted to arrest him for|insulting the dead President.

AII right comrades,|I've changed my mind,

Let's caII him Ramiz.

No, Pinki, caII him Pinki!

Pinki!

l was marked for life,|folks!

l knew l was destined|for great deeds.

That reaIIy suits you.

Hey, kid! Take that off|and come here.

Get a good Iook, eh?

It seems you'd shag my|IittIe girI, wouIdn't you?

Come on now, Kure.

of course you wouId.

Kure, send the kids home.|-What for?

Let them Iearn something.|-Come on!

D'you know how to treat|this sort of bird?

D'you take her|to a museum, eh?

What wouId you do in|a museum, you IittIe trash?

Have you ever wondered why|there's no shagging

in oId American fiIms?|That's because Kagny and Bogy

didn't want to give away|their trade secrets.

Spit your gum out!

Shagging is an art. Pay|attention! First stage:

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