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After we clock off, Mark can barely contain himself. "Gonna get fuckin' smashed and get me some fanny," he's saying. All the other lads are laughing at him - he's a right fuckin' nutter is Mark.
He gives me a lift home. He's just got himself a new Corsa and he beasts the fucker all the way.
"Yer gonna fuck this up just like you did the last one," I say.
"Fuck it," he says, reaching over and turning up the radio, belting out the new Kanye West track. "Why get a car like this if yer not gonna rag the fucker?"
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Heather convinces me to go around to hers to get ready. I wanted to chill out for a bit, but she's got a load of WKD in. "Come on, get ready at mine, we'll have a few before we go out," she said, squealing down the phone at me.
I'm in her room and she's stood in front of the mirror. She has this big mass of thick curly blonde hair, and it almost looks like a weird shrub is attacking her head and she's trying to fend it off with a hair dryer and a comb. My hair's quite thin, so it's quite easy to straighten, so I'm having a cig and chucking down some blue liquid.
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Her stereo's turned right up and she moves along with the music, Somethin' 'bout your body/Somethin' 'bout
your body baby..."Fuckin' love this tune," she says, turning it up. The blokes go mad over Heather. As soon as we walk out the door, they flock around her, but she doesn't care. She can shoot a wanker down in flames with a single cocky comment. I wish I could do that - wish I had that confidence.
"So what's the plan?" she asks.
"Dunno, thought maybe have a quiet one in Admiral and then go to Yello."
"Fuck that, let's head straight for Cheeky Monkey's."
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"Whatever, it's up to you."
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I have to say, I hate Cheeky Monkey's. It's too cramped, and you can't have a dance without some idiot grabbing your arse every two minutes, but I go along with it anyway.
"Come on, are you gonna fuckin' cheer up?" Heather asks.
"I am cheered up, just a bit tired," I reply, draining the last of the bottle. "I've had a shit of a day, that's all."
Heather turns around, her hair nearly finished and says, "Well forget about that. The weekend's here!"
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Me mam has me tea waiting for me when Mark drops me off. It's burgers, beans and chips, and I'm fuckin' starving so I woof it down. "Ave yer got me board?" me mam asks in between puffs on her cigarette.
"Gimme a fuckin' chance," I say. "I've just stepped through the door. I an't time to go to the bank yet. I'll bring it home with me after I've been out."
"Yer fuckin' better had," she says. "I'm not running a fuckin' hotel here."
"Yeah, yeah" I mumble into my plate.
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Fiction - Off To See The Wild West Show Part 19 (1886: Hull, Yorkshire) By Frank Beill
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Was it my imagination or were dark clouds hanging over the Persian Monarch the next morning?
I feared the worst. Heavy feet climbed the wooden steps to my hero's saloon.
As before Red Shirt, Dog That Stands and Laughing Waters were there in support of my case.
We entered the cabin and my spirits rose. Nate Salsbury wasn't there and Miss Arta was
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Fiction - Complicity Part 6 By Nick Quantrill
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Complicity is the new crime-fiction novella set in Hull featuring
Detective Sergeant Coleman and Detective Constable Maynard.
The thisisull.com serialisation is accompanied by the stunning black and
white photography of Roland Standaert, which illustrates the story and takes a unique look at the city.
Complicity and other stories are available for free.
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Fiction - Gloomy Sunday By Joe Hakim
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As we got closer I could see it framed against the horizon. From this distance it just looked like a huge black shape, like a giant lump of coal or something. "Jeezus, it's huge," I said. "Yeah, I'm guessing it's a male," Mike said. "Could be about fifty tonnes of whale washed up down there." Mike was a marine biologist.
He'd been given the task of studying
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Fiction - Kat Out of the Bag Chapter Thirteen By Steve Rudd
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I remembered the ring simply because it wasn't the type of ring that a man would usually
choose to include in his pro-macho jewellery box.
The rare stone at its heart shone like a bewildering beacon demanding attention in the
pits of hell, while its subtly alluring design was elaborately detailed yet delicate.
To all intents and purposes it looked like a lady's bridal ring, and thus the plot thickened.
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Fiction - The M1 McDonalds Girl and the Most Suitable Bloke By Andy Bilton
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So I'm heading home. Heading north. Eighty, on the M1, just south of Sheffield. Pissing it down. That horizontal stuff that totally obscures your view, your only safe option being to get in to the inside lane and follow the red cat's eyes. Not ideal weather conditions for a must-get-there-quicker sort of situation such as this.
I should slow down really but Helen's already been on the mobile
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Fiction - Welcome To Hellville - Part 16 By Rich Mills
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"What music are you into, man?" The American exchange student who had earlier introduced
himself, without any regard for Alan's need to be alone, suddenly threw a curve-ball
of a question like this in his direction.
"Well I listen to..." What followed was a definitive list of bands from Alan's
wide-ranging rare vinyl and CD collection, he even
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Fiction - The Guy Who Had All The Time In The World By Joe Hakim
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Sometimes it gets to be a bit too fuckin' much, I decide, after another day spent wandering the streets aimlessly.
The sky is still bright purple - the colour of a fresh bruise - and the streets are still completely silent; not even the sound of birds chirping or distant traffic in the distance.
Aside from that, everything seems to be much the same, at least on the surface.
There's no visible
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Fiction - The Burden - A Short Story By Joe Hakim
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I step out into the sun and close my eyes, letting the light wash over my face.
It's cold, and the wind pinches my cheeks but I feel complete, for the first time ever.
Today the world is different. Today is the first day of a new beginning.
Everything feels real and vivid, and I bathe in it, taking it all in like a child
seeing a painting for the first time, judging the angles and
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Fiction - Zero and the Neighbours Part 1 - Demo version 0.1 By Joe Hakim
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Frank was one of the regulars. From the first day I started dealing poker on the tables, Frank was there. To look at, he was your typical moody old man - old in the Father Christmas sense - white hair, a huge white beard and a round gut that hung out of his shirt and over his belt. You could imagine him sat in a grotto in the bottom of Princes Quay with some mewling
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Fiction - Just like Eddie by Bob Spence
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I don't know exactly when I got into it but there you are.
Like most lads, I suppose it was the thought of being Bristol's answer to
Elvis that was some kind of inspiration.
Yes that was always there in the back of my mind, but the accent never sounded
quite right to be fair.
Anyway. The South Deans Village Youth Club was a right place back then and we used
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Fiction - The Wall by Darren Sant
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Sometimes your best is just not enough.
Panic stricken and panting I arrive.
There it is, a fucking huge wall. An obstacle blocking my progress.
A visible representation of all that I can't achieve.
Nervously I look behind me. I lash out at it, kicking and punching but to no avail.
It is rock solid. I jump but find it too high. I take a running jump
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Fiction - Divine by Blair Ashworth
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"Mein Führer? Mein Führer?" The old man in the long grey coat was bent over the body slumped in the chair.
"Give it a few more seconds, Henry," said the doctor. "Do you speak any German? It might lessen the shock." No, Henry didn't speak any German and he didn't much care about any shocks he might deliver.
Behind the heavy oak chair,
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Fiction - Scissors, Paper, Stone! By Bob Spence
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The Lord Nelson was your typical run-down seventies pub. The decor was in disarray, with half a mind to venerate the Royal Navy's biggest hero or to catch the eye of the potential clientele with the latest fashion. In this manner it achieved neither.
Mickey was the prototype glass collector for every
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Fiction - Drowning, Swimming By Joe Hakim
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Keith sat and stared at his wife, who was holding his daughter and staring at the
28" Philips Widescreen TV situated in the corner of his house, on his laminate floor,
flanked at either side by his Sony sound system and his X-Box.
He was sweating and his head was throbbing - the general effects of the weekend
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Fiction - Any Instructions? By Denis Price
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It wasn't the first time he'd missed the bus. From the Mess to the monitoring hangar was only a quarter of a mile walk, something he relished during the central European summer as the airbase had been carved out of heavily wooded countryside teeming with wildlife.
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Fiction - Second Chances by Nick Quantrill
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Available now, Second Chances is a crime fiction novella set in Hull that is
already attracting praise from readers.
Influenced by crime fiction heavyweights Ian Rankin and Hull's Robert Edric,
Second Chances is set to be a great success.
For a taster, see the extract reproduced below, only available
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Fiction - Invasion By Bob Spence
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Moody just couldn't stop scratching. His shirt was far too stiff at the edge of the collar
and the coarse material was driving him to distraction.
You could also say that Moody was distracted anyway. He was waiting for a letter from his fiancee
and there was none.
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Fiction - The Death and Birth and Death of a Legend By Bob Spence
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Goober liked to be busy. Some people could handle doing nothing, not Goober Walton.
Running the tidy but ancient gasoline concession suited. Suited well.
It was orderly and everything clearly had its place.
Some would say it looked almost military in its order and for that it
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Fiction - Feller's in Cut By Maurice Fairfield
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Well that's her gone. You don't remember me do you?
I'll have a pint while you're thinking about it.
It's me Jack, Harry Fergus's son. Here for the funeral.
Thought I'd see her get put under. Not sure why.
It's always a laugh though, watching a parson doing a
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Fiction - Firm but Fair By Mark Pollard
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Cry-Baby Jim Breaks. He pioneered it, they say.
And the hushed, almost ecclesiastical tones of Ken Walton had heralded it's
entry into Saturday afternoon folklore: the bright lights of
Blackpool and Great Yarmouth, down to the lesser reputes of Ilfracombe and
Skegness had all borne witness
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Fiction - Puzzles By Denis Price
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I've got a really nice room, when the door's closed I feel ever so safe and warm. It's quiet as well,
just the swish of the wind in the trees outside. I like the trees; they hide the big tall fence.
My watchers say the fence is there to keep me safe, and that's their job too, they're always there
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