The Psycho Prick Diaries: Laser Treatment Debt
Contains industrial language, a psycho prick for a protagonist, attempted cunnilingus and the Glaswegian accent
Ah love diving in wae the auld tongue, but her pussy’s been drinking whisky everyday fir ten years and trying tae solve the murder ae ma love fir cunnilingus. She knows ah cannae abide the far gone detective look doon there, or the dense vegetation. Am a Kojack man: bald and a lollipop.
Ah stoap proceedings and tell her tae pull up that dental floss she calls underwear. No that am complaining, but it disnae look comfortable. ‘When did you last get landscaped?’
‘I don’t know,’ Aneta says. That Russian accent is perfect. She could tell you tae go fuck Predator in an abattoir, and your dick would still get a rush of blood tae it like the lift doors opening in The Shining. ‘Just lick.’
‘Am trying, but you’re Boris Johnson’s comb doon here.’ She shuts her legs.
‘You said I wouldn’t shave after treatment.’ She has a point. Nine laser treatments and the hairs are still coming back like a fictional serial killer in an industry low oan ideas. Ma anger’s misdirected at her hungover fanny. That cowboy doctor should be the wan feeling ma wrath. Pawning aff this hairy half-arsed joab fir his debt is an insult tae every cunt concerned — no least Aneta’s.
‘Put something oan.’
‘Why? I wanna stay in bed.’ Fuckin queen ae the bedsores.
‘This isnae a why situation, just dae it.’
‘Doctor Hartley’s busy,’ says the soor-faced receptionist. Doctors are always busy, especially when they’re gambling themselves intae a hole and sticking their dick in another wan. Am done wae the pleasantries fir the day. It’s direct action time.
He’s sitting there wae a deviant’s grin oan his purple face as a blonde pulls up her knickers. Ah announce ma arrival by throwing a pen at his heid. ‘Leave,’ ah say tae his sexy patient.
‘What can I do for you, Eddie, Aneta?’ Hartley’s trying tae ham it up here like his arsehole isnae hiving a seizure. He nervously touches the side ae his heid and gies the game away.
‘Show him,’ ah say tae Aneta.
‘Show what?’
‘Show him act three scene wan: Ophelia’s fuckin soliloquy! Whit dae ye think? Show him your pussy before ah go full Rambo in this shithole!’ Aneta angrily pulls doon her pants and lifts her skirt. Doctor Hartley looks at her pubic region wae just the right amount ae trepidation tae stoap me putting him through the windae. ‘Whit dae you call this?’ Ah point at the hairs roon her clit. ‘She’s seen mair fuckin lasers than Han Solo, and her arse is still like Sherwood fuckin forest!’
‘It’s just…she’s dark-skinned,’ he says. Ah pull oot the blade and stick it in the chair near his bulge. He looks like his dick’s just had a heart attack.
‘You got something against dark-skinned Russians?’
‘Russian,’ Aneta says, spitting oan the floor. ‘I’m Ukrainian.’
‘Anti-Ukrainian as well as a degenerate gambler, punter and junkie. You’re some fuckin docter. Whit’s next, gieing the Harold Shipman treatment tae your patients?’
‘I’m a good doctor.’
‘Are you getting cunty wae me?’ Ah gie him the implacably baleful stare. Ah will no reasoned wae. Ah will no be tamed.
‘No, no, no, no, no,’ he says
‘Stoap saying no like a broken fuckin record.’
‘I go to car,’ Aneta says.
‘Just stay there!’
‘Fuck you, Eddie!’
‘Fuck me? Fuck you!’
‘No, fuck you!’
‘Look, I think we all have to calm down here,’ Hartley says.
‘Don’t you get involved! You’re in nae position tae start a peace process! You’re the wanker selling baldy vaginas under false pretences, ya lying bastard!’
‘Laser hair removal just works better on lighter, paler skin.’
‘Don’t try and pawn your incompetence and racism aff oan lasers.’ Sweet mother of mercy! Whit are they hings oan his feet? He’s in trainers recently confiscated fae a champion tramp. ‘Whit the fuck ur you wearing?’
‘Oh, them. They’re for comfort. I have problems with my feet these days.’
‘That’s cute,’ ah say, standing oan them. ‘Is that sore?’
‘Yes, yes!’
‘That’s whit ah wanted her tae say when ah wis between her legs.’ Aneta heads fir the door. ‘Where you goan?’ She gies me the middle finger, and her beautiful hairy arse leaves the room. ‘You’ve ruined ma day. Ave went fae cunnilingus tae looking at your disgusting trainers. Ah want you wearing shoes the morra when she comes back.’ Ah pull the knife fae the chair and exit stage left. Aneta’s wiping her mascara and kidding on she disnae want me tae see she’s been crying. Ah decide tae calm doon and reduce blood pressure, be a jovial, loveable cunt again. The playful glances and smile don’t work. She’s pretending ave ceased tae exist. That’s nothing a good tickle won’t sort. Ah get right in aboot her and tickle till she’s laughing uncontrollably, gieing me the eyes. Fuck it. It’s only hairs.
