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sions dotted his front room; library books, a radio, an overflowing ashtray, and, somewhat
surprisingly, a windowsill full of seedlings.
'Ifyemovethosechairsouttath'wayyecansleeponthefloor,'hesaid.Hedisappeared
into the kitchen and emerged with a bottle of whisky and three glasses. 'Time for a wee
dram before bed?'
This was more of a statement than a question, as despite our polite declines we were
both given a huge neat whisky. Ben sipped at his like a connoisseur, and I downed mine in
the hope that it would make me sleep better. Mick slumped into his armchair and seconds
later he was asleep.
'Shit! What do we do now?' asked Ben.
'I don't know. We can't just go to sleep with him sat there can we?'
'No. But I'm not going to try and wake him and put him into bed. Are you?'
'No way.'
'I'msoglad I'vegotthe sleeping bag.Atleast ifhewakes upyou'll bethe easier oneto
attack,' said Ben.
'Stop boasting about your bloody sleeping bag. Besides, if he wakes up in the night and
tries to rape or murder us at least I'll be able to make a quick getaway whereas you'll be
hopping round the room like you're in a sack race.'
We both started laughing at the thought, but then stopped quickly when Mick started
fidgeting. Mick asleep was far less terrifying than Mick awake.
Ben climbed into his sleeping bag and I covered my legs with my towel and we lay on
the floor longing for the morning.
We had been quiet for about ten minutes when I decided to release a fart. Now, I'm a
fairly prolific farter - I would even go as far as saying that I'm a master - but this was
like nothing I had ever done before. It lasted for about ten seconds and the vibrations of it
rumbled through the floorboards, echoing round the entire room. We looked over towards
Mick who shuffled in his chair, sat forward, opened his eyes briefly, and then went back to
sleep.
Ben almost wet himself with laughter and I had to put my fist in my mouth to stop my-
self shrieking. It was just what we needed to break the tension.
'Holy shit,' said Ben, 'we're sleeping next to a drunken killer and you go and let out
something like that. I've never heard anything like that before.'
'It was definitely one of my best. I think it's a combination of the Guinness, the burger
and the fear.'
It's fair to say it was not one of my best night's sleep.
I drifted in and out of consciousness, kept awake by the presence of Mick slumped in
his chair a few feet away. He would swear loudly at himself at regular intervals throughout
the night - seemingly in his sleep.
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