Be jaysus, Doreen! Would ya bleedin’ well listen to me now. I’m tryin' to tell ya there were fish in the phone box. For the sake of heaven! Don’t be an eedjit! Listen to what I’m tellin' ya. Don’t listen to y'ma. Of course I tried to ring y'up. Be jaysus and begorrah! I did. We’ve got photos. We’ve bleedin’ well got some photographs! I was mortified. He was all googly-eyed, see? A right bold little bugger, all cheerful, swimmin' there in that phone box like it were his own bleedin’ fish tank.
What d'ya mean have I been eatin’ some of Declan’s mushrooms? I only ever did that once, Doreen. I swear to God. I went outside to call y'up, to tell ya I'd be staying out for a pint. Well, maybe a couple. That phone box by the pub. You know the one. It’s a bleedin’ ordinary phone box, right? I stumbled there in the dark, spillin' half me pint down me trousers. A stripy fish, Doreen. Blue and green, and bits of bleedin’ orange, starin' straight out and laughin' at me, right? I blinked and blinked, Doreen. Faith and begorrah. I splashed beer in me eyes. A right waste, I know. But it didn’t get rid of them. What an eedjit!
His friends were smaller, right. Moodier lookin'. Hangin' out near the bottom. I would’ve opened the door, to get on the blower t'ya. But the water, Doreen? What about the fish? They would’ve died right there on that bleedin street. Is that what ya would’ve wanted? The bleedin’ water crashin' out? Murder, Doreen. The slaughter of innocent fish. Be jaysus! Those poor little buggers suffocatin' on the street. Murder, Doreen. Bleedin’ murder! Hello? Ya still there? Doreen? We've got photos to prove it! Don't be a bleedin' eedjit!
© Copyright, 2007. Seamus Kearney.