What day was it?
It didn't matter because Jim couldn't remember anything, in fact he had actually forgotten his name.
He was sitting down in the corner of some street, somewhere in Fenwick, with an empty bottle of gin between his legs. He had gotten there...Somehow?
It gave him headache to try even thinking about anything, so he just resigned the past to the fates, and decided to focus on the present, and how he was going to haggle another drink out of his mater Tipsy...
Maybe he could beat him in another game of cards...
Now that was an idea!
Splendid! Straight to business then!
As Jim waddled back to the pub a huge brute of a man stepped up from behind and looked like he was going to grab him!
Of course Jim ran for his life. As he ran this bruiser gave chase:
'Get back here!' he cried. 'I want a word with you!'
Jim's heart was in his mouth...
But he was determined not to give up. He ran and he ran.
And then he tripped and he fell.
Eventually he was cornered, and knowing he had been defeated Jim bowed and hid his head in his hands.
It was time for him to take his medicine...
The massive brute man stopped, and then started panting, obviously exhausted. When he got his breath back he started to speak again.
'That was a great time we had last night!' he said.
Jim asked the man what he was talking about.
'What do you mean?' said Jim. 'What do you mean we had a good time? Have you confused me with someone else possibly?'
'No way!' the brute yelled. 'I would never be able to confuse you with anybody else, Jim Boy! That's what you told me to call you, wasn't it? Our boy Jim!'
Jim wondered whether or not he was suffering from another bad dream - so he knocked his head against a nearby wall to see if it would wake him up.
It did not, alas for him...
'You are the best mate I have ever had,' the brute continued. 'I have never had such a laugh not with anyone else ever before! Man! Whoosh! When you smashed that shop window and jumped through and stole all those chocolate bars! My stomach hurt from all the laughing I did!'
'Right slow down!' Jim replied. He needed to take a breath and have time to think. '...I can't remember much of what happened last night... I know I had a drink... or two. Maybe if you remind me of your name it might kick my memory back into action?'
'My name is Beverly Price but most people call me Butch,' the brute replied. 'To be honest I prefer Butch. My mum called me Beverly because she thought I was a girl at first, till I grew all big and huge like I am right now. So just call me Butch, if you please!'
Butch. Yes. Jim still couldn't remember who the man was.
In fact, he couldn't remember anything after finding out that his best friend Jo was dead.
How much had he actually drank?
Jim dreaded to think about it!
He must have gotten so horrible wasted that he blacked out - and in that happy lost moment of his life met Butch and gotten up to all sorts of nonsense!
It wouldn't of been the first time something like that had happened...
'Okay Butch now listen,' said Jim. 'I have got a headache - it feels like the Yellowstone National Park has just erupted super nova inside my skull right now, so you are going to have to bear with me. I really don't remember much about what happened last night. Sorry about that old chap.'
'You mean you can't remember anything? No way! That's awful! I was so excited! Especially after you started talking about how you stole a secret recipe for a drink so wonderful that the world would literally die for it! You told me we were going to brew it, sell it, and male our fortune!'
Jim had said all of that?
He gulped.
Jim had REALLY messed up o this time, and that was no mean feat for a man whose life has been nothing but a disaster piece from the day he was born! Right from the moment when a sloppy nurse got him mixed up with another baby and Jim ended up spending the next fifteen years of his life with the wrong parents, until they found out the truth and he was kicked out onto the streets.
Butch started clicking his knuckles menacingly:
'Don't tell me you were lying about all that recipe stuff? I was rather looking forward to making a fortune...'
'O no, Butch! I wasn't lying to you. It's all quite true. Forgive me Butch, it's just I don't feel that well, maybe if I had another drink it might, you now, perk me up a bit. You know the old saying, hair of the dog, and all that?'
Butch suggested they should both head down town and buy a pint.
Jim explained that the didn't have any money, and demonstrated this by pulling out his pockets.
Butch said it didn't matter, that he had a few notes in his pocket, he had been paid the other day from work, and that he was more than happy to buy his new entrepreneurial friend a drink!
Jim couldn't remember ever meeting, let alone talking to someone like Butch, ever. in fact since his arrival in Fenwick he had never seen such a man ever before! But when the mighty gorilla offered to buy Jim a drink, Jim smelt a potential mug, and thought it would be a good idea to keep the man around for a while...
After all, having such a beast of man in his company would help deter potential enemies from interfering with his amazing plan to drink and rot the rest of his life away.
Back at the Short Tailed Fox alehouse, which was Jim's home in those days, Jim drained a stout with a shot of whiskey, and sadly placing his empty glass down on the table he still found that he couldn't remember anything that had happened the night before, so he decided to go along with things.
In other words he was going to lie and pretend that he and Butch were best friends!
The truth was too dangerous a thing to stand by when one was living in the streets of Fenwick...
'So what's it all about, Butch?'
'I want us to talk ab out this exciting new recipe of yours,' Butch replied. 'You said it is the best thing ever! The best drink you ever tasted, that's what you said! I can't wait to try it myself! I can hardly sleep I am so excited by the thought of it! It's so nice to be friends with someone who has a talent!'
Butch was a man perhaps in his late twenties? Yet he talked like a child.
The man could squash him like a pancake with his left hand alone, Jim knew this, but Jim also felt that this was a man he could wrap around his finger if he was careful and utilised the right words.
So a plan started formulating in his brain...
'Yes this is the recipe,' said Jim, pulling the crumpled note out of his pocket. 'Like I said it's the best drink ever! Utterly marvellous stuff! Amber nectar for real. With a sip or two it sends you right up there with them clouds, yes! It's that perfect!'
Butch started clapping his hands together like a giddy child. 'We must make some!'
'All in good time Butch,' Jim responded. 'We are going to need the right equipment first!'
'I can help out there. I don't mind robbing a shop or two if I have to. I have done it before whenever I needed something I couldn't afford. My gaff runs the dock and pays me beer money for unloading scrap off the boats, but I find myself running out of paper by the end of the month so I just beak into Ted's old shop if I fancy a chocolate bar, or ruff up a fella if I am shot of change.'
'You have never been reported to the police for any of this?'
'They wouldn't dare do that to me,' Butch responded. 'I threaten to kill them and burn their homes down. They believe me as well!'
'I can imagine that they do,' Jim returned.
'It's great doing business in the alleys around the docks,' Butch continued. 'I like a fight, yah know. If my pockets ever run empty I just go out and ruff a few lads up, there's always somebody about, some whipper snapper running his mouth. I rearrange the formation of his teeth, give him a nice pretty old smile, and in exchange he'll hand me his paper. There's often a bit of blood on the notes, but the barman here in the old Short Tailed Fox doesn't seem to mind that. And if he does mention it I just stare at him and he backs off.'
'You sound like a fine man,' Jim replied. 'So you don't mind stealing things?'
'I am happy to do it,' the giant responded.
'Marvellous! Okay. So this is the plan. If we are going to brew this fine new drink of mine, this utterly heavenly beverage - the drink of the gods! We are going to need the right apparatus. I know where to get it from! But first I need to get rid of the owner. I see your look now, Butch, but beating him up isn't enough. I need to get rid of him indefinitely! I think I know how to do this. Once he is gone, I need you to break into his room and lift all of his gear. Can you do that, Butch?'
Butch responded readily with a salute.
What fine little soldier he was indeed, thought Jim.
Jim smiled, and chuckled inside, and then he said, 'I want to shake your hand, Butch, but I am scared you will break all my fingers so I won't! But I think the two of us are going to shake up sleepy old Fenwick Town quite nicely. O yes! We are going to take over the streets! I can see it now! Good times lie ahead for us and for this city!'
'I am with you to the end in all things,' Butch replied eagerly. 'O wait! I have just found another note in my pocket? Fancy a second shot of whiskey, fella?'
Jim told the man that he would appreciate another whiskey very much!
"I think you and I are going to get on very well indeed, Butch...!" (Jim circa XX33AD)
***
(Remember! All spelling errors and grammatical mistakes are intentional - the author 😆)
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