Now that I've gained some control back over my relationship with Richard I feel able to be a bit cheeky. I deserve it, don't I? So this afternoon I 'accidentally' bumped into him and his wife wearing that 'kiss and make up and please don't my wife about this' present. It is a gorgeous coat - real rabbit fur. I reckon rabbits are fairly useless creatures. I mean you can keep them and you used to be able to eat them, but that's all they'd do if they weren't coat fodder. They're practically the most pointless fucking animals on the face of the planet - stupid wide eyed mindless little balls of fluff. It's good how much milage you can get out of God's creatures by making them into a gorgeous fucking garment.

So Richard gives me a tight smile and says 'Kimberley' and I say all flamboyantly, 'Richie dahling!' because I want a bit of fun. His missus is narrowing her eyes a bit but then when she's not looking at me she's got her gaze fixed on the fast food place behind me. It's clear that all she has on her mind is feeding her own face so she barely notices all the posing and posturing I'm pulling off, which is a shame really. I'd practiced all my tartiest faces the night before. Must demonstrate sometime. 

Once Richard is looking uncomfortable and purple in the face just as I want him I decide to saunter off. I discreetly squirt a bit of the old musky perfume onto his jacket sleeve as I pass. That should worry the missus slightly. I think I'll text him asking if he's going to tip again very very soon. 

I'm quite pleased with myself so I go into the off-licence down the road for more fags and booze when I get home. Mrs Frances has been left on her own again so she's in there gabbing with the indian bloke behind the counter. I'm queued up behind her and she's still yap-yap-yapping away. She's a right state today - hair all over the place like bloody Cousin It, so God knows why  the indian bloke's putting up with her. But I'm standing there wanting to get out because the rain's starting. So I decide to have some fun with this lady. I pretend I'm all bloody excited to see her again and I go 'Peggeeeeeeeee! How lovely to see yooooou! Mwah, mwah' etc etc, all that carry-on. 

She's more than happy to come back to mine, bottles clinking and clonking. She's probably left her front door wide open, keys swinging in the lock, and she's either too high or too stupid to care. Anyway we get in and she's all excited about comparing cigarette brands with me. I say 'Interested in any drugs?' She looks a bit shocked, and managing not to laugh I produce some caster sugar from the kitchen and come back from the kitchen pretending to have snorted. Wiping my nose, that sort of thing. She look a bit shocked and says something like she's scared of getting something up her nose. I say, 'Oh right, your mate told me you had phobias, don't you? I collect moths, actually.' She looks appalled and I can barely stop a snicker coming out. Then I sit down and pour her another drink and start acting all sultry, and I say, 'Hey, sugar-tits, head upstairs for some girly fun? I won't tell your kid, I promise.' Then I think she realised what was happening. Her hands were shaking, even her voice was wobbling. Everything was wobbling, fat cow. It was so funny I did start laughing as she stumbled out and back down the street.

The End

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