Monday, 9 September 2013

Breakfast 2

He frosted his cornflakes with Nitracaine/Synthacaine mix, pouring over semi-skimmed milk, and a large glug of Brandy. His jaw crunched back and forth his eyes rolled as he ate with relish. He then proceeded to open his man-sized fridge made from carbon steel, and took out a huge Japanese melon.
From a dining draw he extracted the biggest syringe you have ever fucking seen (pre-prepared last night with a combo of H and Cocaine) and a knife. He slid the pipe like needle in and pumped full, watching it quiver.
He sliced the fruit into large quarters - and with a shit eating grin consumed the spiked sweet tasting pulp inside, before he fell or rather sunk into the drug induced seizure - freaky thoughts - kinky dancing - he bopped around his flat like Bez pumped full of dog hormones.
This was Derricks day, this was his regular morning routine. He danced in speed ball Heaven, goofed up at 6 AM looking like a mental monkey having a fit.

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