Trace's Mate Sharon InnitMature

''Oi Kev!  Kevin Iggins!  Ang abaht.  I bin lookin fer Trace.  Ave you seen er?  Ooh nice doggage.  Izzit a pressy fer your Trace?  Usky innit?  Or a Alsatian?''

''I AM Trace,  ya stupid cah!''

''Fuckin ell Trace, you ad me fooled ha ha ha.  That's bleedin ilarious that is.  You off to a party izzit?  Fancy dress or summink? I saw you from over the road an I fort to meself I fort, Kev's bin an gone an become a Goff nah as e?  Ha ha ha!''

''It aint funny Shaz.  Kev aint well.  We bin dahn the docta's an the ospital an evryfink.  Tell ya the troof I aint too clever meself.''

''Well I fort ta meself I fort, thassa bit suss, a dog wearin  Burberry coatage an evryfink.  Still you can get all sorta fings fer dogs nah innit!  Bling an stuff.  I shoulda reckonised the coat.  Iss that one ya got dahn the market last Wensdy innit.''

''Look Shaz.  We gotta go ta the Jobcenta.  Could ya do us a favour?  I'm sposed ta pick Chelsea's lickle girls Lakeesha an Canderel up from nursery at free o'clock.  I can't essackly go like this can I?  Scare the shit out of em, innit.''

''Yeah awright Trace.  Tell ya wot though.  That costume's phat.  Get it in Argos didya?  That air looks real aufentic innit.  Sickage!  Laters, Kev.''

''Less go Trace. We's gonna be late.''

''Bloody ell, Kev.  Is that filth ahtside the dole office?  We betta go in the park till they's gone.''

''Wot if they don't go though Trace?  Awright, we'll nip in there fer half an hour an keep an eye on fings from there.''

The End

46 comments about this story Feed