It Happens at Night 4: Out on the Streets...

Freddy made sure to keep away from all park benches for the rest of that night.

  Instead he made the willing decision to sleep in a gutter in a street corner.

  He slept in the gutter for his own protection, and to maintain his personal safety, as well as his dignity.

  He just couldn't risk being ruffed up by another gang...

  When a Fenwick man has the security of a home he might forget that the streets are owned by the gangs.  And when a human being ever dares to leave their home behind and place one shoe-sole on a single cobble they are intruding on controlled land and risking their very precious lives.   

  It was a dangerous business going out onto the streets - and in turn an even deadlier business trying to sleep on them!

  Freddy had let his guard down that night.

  Never again.

  But by luck he had found a nice little corner in a road to snuggle down in.  

  When the morning finally started to pipe up Freddy found himself being rescued by his good old friend Marty McGregor who brushed Freddy down and invited him to stay in the local hostelry that he managed.

  'Can I fetch you a whiskey sonny?'

  'Yes please,' said Freddy.  'Irish will do nicely...'

  'Sorry mate.  The only whiskey we sell here is cockney.  Here, have a good hard glass of this fine old blend of Pony and Trap.  Wait!  You do realise you are paying for that?  You got no money you say?  Darn!  Alright.  I will do you a deal.  I will offer you a double shot of Pony and Trap so long as you are happy with me shaving the top off with my own lips.'

  Freddy agreed to the deal.

  Anything for some whiskey.

  So McGregor poured the man a glass of Pony and Trap, and drank away half of it before throwing the rest of it in the direction of his friend.

  'You are too kind!' said Freddy, sipping down the spoonful of whiskey left at the bottom of the cup.  'This is a good whiskey!  Thank you!'

  'I made it myself!'

  'Fancy that!  What ingredients did you use?'

  'It's no secret that I distilled the beverage using the sweat from my second hand unwashed socks.'

  'O.'

  'Ah!  You can't beat a good old glass of the Pony when you are feeling depressed.  They used to brew this stuff back during the war.  It is a secret recipe handed down to me by my beloved grandfather.'

  'O right.  Which war was that then?'

  'The only one that counts!  WW2.  Fenwick was the second channel island to be conquered by the Third Reich.  When the Nazis moved into town they quickly attained a taste for the Pony.  My grandfather was part of the resistance movement back then and he fought to the death protecting his brand from those vile  thieving fascists!  He was not going to let them steal his socks!  "Pony and Trap belongs to the McGregors," he would say.'

  'he sounds like a hero!  What happened to him?'

  'He was captured and deported to Belsen.'

  'Damn!'

  'But thankfully the recipe survived the war and that is why we are lucky enough to be sat here drinking it today!'

  Freddy smiled.  He felt his spirits lift a little.  McGregor was a hearty man and made for good company in dark times.

  'Let's make a toast!' said Freddy cheering up.  'Let's toast your war hero grandfather kicking the Nazis up the backside while simultaneously saving his socks!"

  'I will drink to that!  Fancy sharing another whiskey with me?'

  Freddy said he was ready to do that.

  McGregor left Freddy half a drop of the good stuff at the bottom of a dry glass.

  'So what's up with you today then Freddy?  I hear you have been having a hard time of it lately?  Speak freely.  Good old McGregor is here and his ears are ready to receive you!'

  'My wife threw me out of our apartment...'

  'O!  So is that why I found you sleeping a bit rough?'

  'Yes.  I was attacked by one of the gangs as well when I tried sleeping on a park bench...  They shaved all of my hair off!'

  'Brutal stuff.'

  'I was so scared.'

  'I am sad to hear about your troubles, Freddy.  I always thought you and Bolly were well suited!  You looked like the perfect couple when you arrived in town!  I guess you just never know what is going on behind closed doors!'

  'Trust me, McGregor, you don't want to ever know what goes on behind our doors when they are closed!  My gosh!  That Bolly!  She is a harsh woman!  Fierce.  Real nasty piece of work.  I don't know what happened between us!  It was never always like this to start with it really wasn't.  We met in Thailand back during my backpacking days...'

  'You went backpacking?'

  Yes.  Well...  No not really.  I used to live in Brighton back in the UK and I had a lot of credit card debts...  And I owed a couple of loansharks...'

  'If you are so extremely bad with money how did you ever get to be an accountant?'

  Freddy had to put his foot down quick and stop the man there in his tracks.

  'Hey!  Stop that McGregor!  I am talking about my love life, not my career.'

  'O sorry.  Continue Freddy with your fine story.  I'm listening.'

  'Yes well I met Bolly in Thailand...'

  'While you were on the run?'

  'YES!  While I was on the run.  We met in the beautiful Thai city of Tittybong.  Marvellous place.  I will never gorget the day when our eyes met across the bar.  I smiled.  She threw her drink at me.  That is the Thai way of saying hello.  We immediately decided that we were made for one another after that.  So why not get married?  She was recently divorced and was on the look for a new man and there I was, all ready to go.  It didn't bother me that she had her little boy Billy.  I am not too proud to raise another mans child.  Not at all.  I am happy to share the burden, especially when love is involved.  I will never forget the wedding day!  The father had to be restrained, he was so happy.  He brought a baseball bat with him, for some reason?  I think it was meant to be a gift!  Such a lovely man.  I studied Thai at university for three years that is why I am so up-together with their language!  I thought to myself if I am going to visit Thailand and marry one of its delightful natives I might as well grow accustomed to the lingo, and I think it is the real reason why Bolly found me so attractive.  I took the time to learn the language of her people!'

  'Fair play to you for learning the language!' spoke up McGregor.  The old man was impressed.  'It's hard learning a new language!  I tried learning cockney once, and well and I ended up with a bunch of apples and pears...'

  Freddy continued with his tale of love and passion in far off Thailand:

  'The wedding was the best day of our loves.  I will never forget it!  It will forever be etched in my memory, like one of those cave paintings in France!'

  'What?  Isn't there one where a sabre-tooth cat rips off the head of forager?'

  'No.  I mean the beauty of the memory of our wedding will last forever like those caves.  Anyway!  The wedding proceeded beautifully.  Just like one of those old Disney movies, it was perfect.  I didn't believe that true romance actually existed until that day came to find me.  I never forget what Bolly said to me when the ceremony was over.  She whispered, seductively in my ear, she said:

  "Fook you, English Scoom Bog!  I kull yo woth me knoof When We got hoom, You Vile fooking scoom."

  'Yes.  That's what she said!  Her precious words are Thai for: "I love you so much you beautiful Englishman.  I can't wait to take you home, my love."'

  'She sounds like a lovely woman indeed,' said McGregor.  'I would like to say I am really happy for you - but then at some point during in all this wonderful romance she threw you out onto the street?'

  'I don't know where it all went wrong I really don't.  I think it all started when I brought her back to the UK.  I tried starting out at Brighton again but I still had those debt collectors chasing after me.  I tell you those guys are persistent devils!  So eventually we had to make our way over to Fenwick.'

  'Ah!  So you are living here in exile!  It makes sense now.  No one would live in Fenwick willingly.  Brilliant stuff.  Okay.  Carry on with your story, Freddy.'

  'Yes well, Bolly and I decided that we loved Fenwick so much, it being ever such a delightful island town, flowing with a rich history that we decided to put down roots...'

  'What did you say?  Rich history?  Did you say RICH?  I don't understand?  Are you referring to those dungeons that the Nazi built during the occupation?  They are a museum now.'

  'NO!  The other bits of history that happened before that!'

  'Like what?'

  'Didn't king Arthur bury excalibur here in secret?'

  'You heard that from a drunk!  Don't worry about it.  There are plenty of that sort around here.  The local drunks will tell you anything!  One drunk who was in here once told me that Fenwick used to have a horse for a king.'

  'What about that time when Henry the Eighth visited the place?'

  'Not true!  Henry the Eighth once wrote a letter to parliament which famously read:  I want to do a Henry the Eighth on the whole town of Fenwick.'

  'Wasn't Fenwick the first slice of the UK to succumb to William the Conqueror before the great battle?'

  'William the Conqueror stopped here in Fenwick to take a leak.'

  'Okay.  What about Charles II?  I heard that while he was on the run from the perfidious roundheads he stayed in Fenwick and the locals took care of him.  He is rumoured to have completely loved the place!'

  'NO.  You must have miss-heard!  King Charles II completely loathed the place.  He hated Fenwick so much that he wanted it wiped off of the face of the earth.  That is why you will never find Fenwick on any map.'

  'Fine!  You win.  Fenwick is the USA of Europe.  It has no history!'

  The two men clashed cups on that one.

  Freddy continued:

  'But I find this town to be an awfully nice place.  Very friend - apart from the gangs and the wars.  And  well Bolly and I thought, YES!  This cheery little place is where we are going to settle down.  Ah!  Wonderful!  I am going to get a good job, get some money together and live in peace raising another mans child.  You know something?  I would love to open a trust fund for dear little Billy...  I know he is not mine by blood, but I still look at him as my own!  What a dear little fellow he is.  I just wish he would stop kicking me in the shins - those bloody bruises down there hurt I sometimes have to limp!  But anyway  returning to the matter at hand, yes, a trust fund for Billy!  I must find a way of setting one up for the young lad.'

  'I tried doing a similar sought of thing once for my son,' McGregor replied cautiously.  'Ah!  Ignorance and naivety, you just can't beat em when they are mixed together!' he said with a sigh.  'I remember when my boy Fenrir was born I thought to myself, "I am going to save a hundred pounds a month and when he gets to eighteen I am going to give him all the money I have saved so that he can have a good start in life!"  Little did I know at the time what a ruddy horrible git he'd grow up to be... playing on that ruddy computer thingy all day and night!  Lazy sod.  I should be retired at my age but I have to keep working so he can keep playing that blasted game...  The Italian Brothers the Hedgehog, or something like that.  Childish twit!  He's a twat as well.  Brainless!  Why when I was his age I had already built this business up!  But my boy Fenrir?  Good Lord!  At eighteen he doesn't even know how to put his shoes on!  He can't even pull his socks up!  His got arthritis from fiddling around with that computer thingy all day - think about that Freddy!  He has arthritis at eighteen years old and he hasn't even done anything!  I can't believe his Grandfather used to fight the Nazis during WW2.  Whatever happened to the world?'

  'Aye.  It's a mad bad old thing when life goes sour,' Freddy replied looking down sadly into his empty whiskey glass.  (If only this glass could refill like magic!  O world please give me a break...  O hope dear old McGregor pours me a free glass of the good stuff...  Distilled from dirty socks or not, I need a good stiff drink to get me through the day).

  As if reading his thoughts McGregor pipped up and said, 'Fancy sharing another drink of whiskey with me, Freddy?'

  'O please!  I need a drink so bad!  I might go mad without one!'

  'Hold on mate.  I'll sort you out!'

  Freddy was expecting McGregor to pour him a straight glass this time.

  But that wasn't what happened.

  What happened was this:

  McGregor took Freddy's poor empty cup and poured a drink into it.  Good so far.  A second later McGregor tipped the entire contents of the cup into his own mouth, swilled it around for a bit, and when he had finished gargling spat out what was left into the glass before returning it to Freddy's hand again.  McGregor literally served Freddy a cup of pure unadulterated backwash.

  Good old McGregor let's cheer his name!  A decent sort and a fine man!  Generous and kind to the last!

  'Fair play, McGregor, you know how to look after me,' said Freddy.

  'Please don't thank me!  I am just doing you a service!  It's what mates like me do for mates like you.'

  'Yes.  You are right.  I am lucky to have you as a mate.'

  Freddy didn't feel like having a drink anymore and gently slid the glass to the other side of the bar.

  Freddy had to start thinking about what he was going to do next.  

  He couldn't spend another night sleeping out in the gutter.  He had to figure out a plan.  He had to get himself together somehow.  He had to win his love Bolly back!

  Freddy asked his friend across the bar for advice.

  'Is it safe to say that you have lived and seen a lot of things and dealt with a lot of situations in your time, right McGregor?  I bet you have been through hard times.  What do you think I should do about my really messed up life?'

  'Well from where I am standing your situation is not all that bad!'

  'And how did you work that one out?'

  'No matter what happens you've still got your job!  You are an accountant, right?  You must be earning plenty of paper!  More than me I bet!  Rent a room somewhere!  You'll be alright, rich man that you are!' and he gave Freddy a sly wink.

  'That's the problem, McGregor.  I am not rich...'

  'Business been bad then?'

  'Very bad.'

  'I thought as much.  I mean it makes sense...'

  'What do you mean by that?'

  'Well, it's that suit you are wearing right now.  It's awful.  It's covered in mud...  And I am sorry mate but ruddy hell you don't half smell bad as well.'

  'A sad consequence of sleeping the whole night in a gutter,' Freddy returned miserably.

  'You really got no money at all then?  Well isn't that bad!'

  'It's Bolly.  She took everything from me!  She stole my heart, my soul, and my suits.'

  'Maybe.  But I still think she is a lovely woman and that you were right to marry her.'

  'So do I.'

  'I like you, Freddy, but no disrespect, I wouldn't want to be in your shoes right now.  And I mean that literally as well as metaphorically.  If your suit is anything to go by your shoes must stink pretty bad as well.  No thank you, Freddy boy.  You can keep your shoes on your feet thank you!'

  'I just don't understand that woman...' Freddy continued wistfully.

  'Which woman?  Do you mean Bolly?' said McGregor.

  'The one and only,' Freddy replied gloomily.  'When I think back to when we were living in Thailand everything was so good.  Damn it!  It is so sad how things have turned out.  What did I do wrong?'

  'It's not your fault,' said McGregor with a chill in his voice.  'There is a good and reasonable reason why your luck has been so downright awful these last few weeks.  It's because this island town of ours is cursed.  It's cursed to the brim I tell you!  You want to talk about history?  Well listen tot his true story:  This island was once the home to a coven of witches, and a warlock, and a couple of vampires.  There might have been a few werewolves too, I can't remember.  It doesn't matter.  It used to be a very evil place!  Now one day this coven put a spell over the whole island and nothing here has been good ever since.  That is how it has been for hundreds of years now.  No one can be happy in this town.  I mean look at you.  And look at me!  We are both miserable beggars!  And it is because of those darn damn witches back in the day weaving magic with their book of souls.'

  'That sounds like a true story.  Yes.  I think you might be onto something there McGregor.'

  'You bet I am right, sonny.  I know these things.  I am old.'

  McGregor was an interesting fellow to listen to, but Freddy just couldn't get Bolly out of his head and immediately went back to talking about her.  Again.

  'We had a ridiculous argument last week...'

  'Who?  You and Bolly?'

  'Yes.  Of course.  Who else do you think I mean?  Well I will tell you about what happened.  She was ranting at me.  Calling me foul names.  She started doing that as soon as we got home and learned the language.  When we first met she could only speak Thai, you see, the most beautiful language of all.  She used to call be lovely things like, Fooker, and Stopid Boostard.  It was beautiful stuff.  It sends a tear direct to my eye when I think back on those gorgeous early days of our relationship.'

  'Like I said, she is a lovely woman.'

  'But when we got back to the UK she learned English really quickly and my gosh was I to ever know it!   Ruddy heck!  The dirty words she uses on me...  Disgusting!  I don't know where she gets it from.  I...I can't repeat it here and now in front of you, McGregor, forgive me but despite my rugged appearance I still consider myself to be a gentleman and a solid member of the anglo saxon race and I would never use such foul words in a single sentence especially not when I am sober.'

  'Well of course you are an accountant after all.  And a good one at that despite these hard times!  You wouldn't have such a good rep with your customers if you went about swearing all over the place like your wife does.'

  'Indeed!  Well, anyway, going back to Bolly, we had this argument a few days ago and she started comparing me to her ex-husband!  Can you believe it?  She knows I hate it when she starts talking about that man.  I told her one night, "never talk about your ex!"  And ever since I said that she talks about that stupid bastard all the time - oops.  Sorry about the language there, McGregor, over the last few weeks I have been picking up one or two of Bolly's colourful phrases...'

  'Don't think about it.  It's entirely understandable.'

    'Well, anyway.  Going back to Bolly again.  There was this one night when she told me that her ex was twice the man I could ever be!  It hurt me deep when she said that.  She also said he was better than me in bed.  I don't know where she got that notion from because Bolly and I have never once slept in the same bed not even on our wedding day.  She has always insisted that I either sleep on the floor, or in recent times behind the sofa.  What can I say?  I am just a good husband and all round good guy.'

  'Yes.  You sound like a good man Freddy.  The last of the great gentleman of old!  There aren't many of your kind left.  They have all been bred out - that is to say, they never had any babies.'

  'O look at the time!' Freddy exclaimed look at the clock on the wall.  'It's late!  Ha!  Who'd a thought time could go by so quickly, hey?  Thank you for lending me your ear tonight, McGregor.  You are a good friend.'

  'Hey listen, if you are looking for a nice little room to stay the night I might be able to help you out!'

  O yes?

  Freddy was ecstatic!  He was going to have a roof over his head for the night after all!  How wonderful!  

  McGregor led Freddy behind the bar and showed him the way down into a dirty old rundown toilet.

  'You can stay here for as long as you need, Freddy my boy!' said McGregor.  'No need to thank me!  Now listen up!  These are my rules.  Don't turn the lights on!  We need to save on electricity, its the year 2025 after all and we all need to do our bit to save on energy!  I don't want you holding any parties down here, or bringing home young ladies for the night either - I won't have any of that unsavoury kind of business going on in my toilet!  O yes!  And before I forget, most important of all - don't use the toilet!  It's broken.  The flush won't work and I don't want you flooding out my fine business with a massive discharge if water, do you hear me?  Good.  Now if you do need the toilet however I recommend you use the one down by the bus station.  You will need a pound coin to get into it, but money is no object to you hey Freddy being the renown accountant that you are!  So those are my rules!  Break 'em, and I'll get the police on you.  And I am being serious when I say that.  I can get you arrested.  I have friends in the force!  Are you clear about my rules?  Yes?  Marvellous!  O!  And don't you worry about being alone down here there are plenty of spiders and I think there might be a rat as well to enliven your night!  Goodnight Freddy lad!  Sleep well...'

(Remember!  All spelling errors and grammatical mistakes are intentional - the author 😆)

Previous part here

There is a prequel to this story.  Check the link below if you would like to read it:

Jim's Subway part 1

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THE LEGEND OF RUDWIN REVIEW

It Happens at Night 3: Far From Normal...

 Freddy's typical strategy for returning home was to sneak through the back window.
  He had it all setup perfectly.
  He had a table and an old rickety chair put together in the back alley which enabled him clean entrance into the bathroom through the unlocked window.  Sure a thief or a gangster could use it to break into the flat, but there was nothing to steal inside Freddy's little home.

  Not unless the gangster was into dirty old second hand socks...

  Bolly had forced Freddy out of the bedroom, so Freddy, ever the innovator, setup camp behind the living room sofa.

  That was where he sent the nights sleep, on a bedroll, with a good book and his dreams of a better life to keep him company.

  Freddy had been up all night, as we know, at the graves, and was especially eager to be inside his bedroll.

  And he had a backup plan if Bolly caught him sneaking behind the sofa.  

  A bottle of whiskey...

  Because Bolly was a full blown alcoholic.

  This addiction was both a good thing, and a bad thing as far as Freddy was concerned.

  Good because Bolly spent most of the day sleeping the booze off.

  Bad because she was madder than ever when she was drunk, and prone to ridiculous and childish fits of bad temper.

  That night it was lucky for Freddy that he brought his backup plan with him, because Bolly caught him in the act of sneaking in through the bathroom.

  She was sober, and waiting for him - glove and claw at hand...

  'It's 3am,' she said.

  'Is it?  My gosh!  So it is!  My word!  Who'd a thought.'

  'It's 3am!'

  'And I think it is about time for me to snuggle down behind my sofa there...'

  'Look at the clock!' she snapped.  'What time is it?  Read it out loud!'

  '3am...'

  'What time do you call this?'

  'Either really late or extremely early, whatever you prefer,' Freddy replied with a tremble.

  'Don't you try to be clever with me boy!  What have you been doing all night?'

  'Look!  Now listen, Bolly dear.  I can explain...'

  'I am listening.'

  'I had work to do in the office!  You know I am a busy man.  The business requires my full attention.  Especially these days with the economy being the way that it is.'

  'A late night in the office is something like 9 or 10pm, not 3 in the morning.'

  'Maybe...back in the 70s.  But Bolly come on now!  This is the 2025 and things are different today!'

  'You think I am stupid?  You have been up to trouble!  You stink.  You haven't spent the day in an office.  Your covered in mud!  What kind of an accountant gets covered in mud?'

  'I was working at a farm.  One of my clients is a pig farmer...'

  'An accountant who works for a pig farmer?'

  'You cannot be too fussy these days, love.  You need to get the work where you can!'

  'Don't call me love.  What year do you think we are living in, the 1950s?  You think I am going to be your nice little happy house wife for you to lie and trod all over?'

  'To be honest lov... dearest - you have never given me the chance to ever trod on you!'

  The cheek of it!

  Bolly was not going to stand for that kind of talk not in her home!

  She slashed at him with the glove!  Freddy had to dive over the sofa to avoid the shrieking slash!

  It was now Freddy's job to try and calm the woman down.  He had to act quick, before she gave him an injury that saw him on the wrong side of an ambulance unit.

  Initiative kicking in Freddy drew out the whiskey bottle and waved it in front of her:

  'Look!  See!  It's alright, Bolly.  It's whiskey!  The good stuff!  I spared no expense.  Here.  Have a drink!  That's it!  Good!'

  Now Bolly had a drink she was easier to talk to.  

  'Things are not as bad as they look, Bolly,' said Freddy.  'I have had a good day in the office.  The business is really doing well at the moment.  Here.  And I can prove it.  Take a look at what I have got here.'

  He brought out a brown envelope containing five hundred pieces of paper.

  He handed it slowly over to her.  She snatched it away!

  That is how it was every payday.  

  In all honesty in those situations Freddy felt like he was in the Mafia, like he was some kind of a capo paying off a don.

  She took the paper out of the enveloped and sniffed it.

  'This will do, for now,' she replied.  'Now you get in the cupboard!'

  'What?'  Freddy was shocked.  What did she mean by this?

  'I want the living ALL room to myself.  And I don't want you in it.  So get in the cupboard.  Inside there you will be out of my sight!'

  Now here Freddy stepped up:

  'Listen now, Bolly.  This is becoming ridiculous!  You have taken over the bedroom, now the living room is out of bounds as well?  There is nowhere else for me to go!'

  Bolly flashed the glove...

  Freddy stood back down again.

  'If you aren't happy then you can get out!  Go on!  Leave!'

  'Are you seriously going to turf me out onto the streets?  Again?'

  'Yes.'

  'Look!  I have been up all night!  Please be reasonable!'

  'And you can spend the rest of the night out in it as well.  Now go away!'

  And like that Freddy was thrown out onto the streets.  The door was slammed shut and locked behind him.  Bolly was also clever enough to secure the toilet window, so no secret way back in that way not that night.

  Freddy's plans had been foiled again!

  So he gave up.

  Cold and all alone in the dark it was time for him to find a bench to sleep on.

  Freddy didn't mind.  He was used to it.  This was not his first taste of homelessness...

  Bolly had thrown him out only three days prior.

  Time to find my usual bench I guess...

  Rustling around a bin for a few sheets of newspaper, Freddy snuggled down on the old rotten branch fully prepared to sleep out the rest of the morning in the cold harsh and open air.

  But before his eyes were allowed to drop down they were filled with a sudden and brilliant dash of light.

  And from up the road a flashy car swivelled into view.

  Out of the car stepped several brightly dressed men.  They were wearing sunglasses, for some reason, in the middle of the night?  Freddy didn't know why they did that, but he knew full well who these men were.

  They were Brazilians!

  The last man to step out was non other than Don Corta Boa Almoço, leader of the dreaded Fenwick cartel!

  Back in the old days people had a saying, out of the frying pan and into the fire.  Well, that good old saying pretty much summed up Freddy's drab fortune right there and then.

  I will just lie here and pretend to be dead.  I mean what would the powerful and mighty Brazilian cartel want with a washed up and thoroughly homeless tramp?

  Don Corta flashed his phone light on Freddy and ordered the bedraggled and defeated man to stand!

  'You!  Dog!' he called out to him.  'What gang to belong to?  Are you with the Irish?'

  'I am with no gang, sir,' said Freddy feebly and humbly.

  Don Corta heard Freddy out and shook his fists and appeared to be very offended by something.  'Look at you!' Don Corta said angry.  'You stand on your feet and speak openly to me like I was some kind of common cur.  Why are you not on your knees?  On your knees now!'

  Freddy dropped at once to his knees and begged for forgiveness.

  'You talk when I say you can talk, do you hear me, dog?' Don Corta raged on.  'You nod your head.  No words are permitted to leave your lips less I give you permission.  This is my city.  All the G-Juice in this city it flows through me!  Do hear me, dog?'

  Freddy wagged his head like a loyal dog.

  'Speak!  Your name!'

  Freddy gave over his name to the fierce Brazilian warlord.

  Don Corta laughed in Freddy's face.  'What kind of a name is that for a man?  I have a new name for you.  I call you dog.  Why you on the streets Dog?  Speak!'

  'My wife through me out of our apartment!'

  Once again Don Corta laughed at him.  'What kind of a man get's thrown out of his house by the hands of his own woman?  Speak!'

  'Well, sir, it is the year 2025.'

  This reply knocked Don Corta for a few seconds.  Eventually the warlord nodded and had to admit that Freddy did have a really good point right there and decided to accept the answer.

  'You are sleeping on my bench?' the dreaded man rumbled on.  'Why do you sleep on my bench?  Have you no respect?  This is my city.  You can sleep in the gutter, like a rat, but nowhere else.  Do you hear me Dog?  Speak.'

  Freddy said that he heard him.

  'Watch!'  Now Don Corta brought out a knife and he cut his right hand!  'Next time I will cut you, just like that, do you hear me dog?  Speak!'

  Freddy said that he heard him.

  'But you must still be punished!  All men who defy my will must pay the price!  And pay you will!'

  'What are you going to do to me?'

  'Did I give you permission to speak Dog?'

  Freddy bowed his head in shame.  

  There was only one choice left to Freddy now and that was merely to accept his fate.

  Don Corta brought his knife out and upwards again.  'I am going to shave you like the dog you are!'

  And that was when the dreaded cartel leader shaved off all of Freddy's hair leaving the poor man trembling and as bold as badgers underside.

  'The moon shines nicely on your freshly bold head,' said Don Corta disrespectfully.  'Next time I see you sleeping on my bench I will freely shave you again, do you hear me dog?'

  Freddy nodded, but dared not say a single word.

  Don Corta got back into his car and slamming the door too he drove away with his lads leaving Freddy shaved, shaken and scared...   

(Remember!  All spelling errors and grammatical mistakes are intentional - the author 😆)

Previous part here

There is a prequel to this story.  Check the link below if you would like to read it:

Jim's Subway part 1

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