Vuh Shit Tree ~ Peter Wild ~ Part 2

March 26, 2007

I was down vuh canal on mee own. I can’t say as I know why I was on mi own but if I was on mi own it was probly cos Noo-Noo’s dad was playing up and locking Noo-Noo in her room again which is wot he did most of vuh time cos he was mental and muslim and all vuh rest of it.

I do know what it was I was doing voh.

I was snipin.

Snipin was one of me most favrit of games. What you did if you was playin snipin was: get down on vuh ground and drag yourself around like as if your legs were dead or gone or summat. Snipin was best after vuh rain had rained cos ven all vuh ground was wet. Snipin was vuh best when you had to snipe froo vuh mud. You knew youd had a good snipe when yr cloves was reekin at vuh end of vuh day. You had to get down on vuh ground and narrow your eyes and pretend like you had a rifle or some’ing and you were movin to some better vantage point cos you had to tek someone out. When I say tek someone out I mean killem. Snipin was all about killin. 

So. I was snipin. I was up on vee embankment and I was eyeing vuh canal vis way and vat way when I saw vuh fumb making his way down vuh path tward me. Vuh fumb was a sad looking cunt, no mistake. He lookt old to me and he walkt like he was carryin vuh wait ov vuh world on his back. I dint fink all vat much of him. I lookt at him and I fought about whevver he could be mi target or not – mi snipin target, I mean – but vat was all. I was finking about what I was doing and so I dint fink too much about vuh fumb, leastways till he dropped down onto his knees in front of vuh shit tree. He dropt down to his knees, right – and I tell you I can see vis clear as day – shit squeezed out from under his knees the way toofpaste squeezes out the end of vuh toof paste choob. But the shit dint seem to bovver him or anyfin.

Stopt me in my tracks voh, I’ll tell you. You dont see someone drop to veir knees in a pile ov shit every day now, do you? I forgot snipin quicksmart. I forgot snipin an I was all eyes. Vis next bit, fink of me like I was a big, bulgin eye. No arms or legs and no head and no nuffin. Just a eye watchin a fumb. Okay?

Vuh fumb reached into his pocket and took out a piece of wood about so big by so big. Vee eye vat I was fought ay up. What’s he gonna do wiv a piece of wood? What he did was vis: he unfolded a knife – and duh knife was about vuh same lenf as duh piece of wood which I now understood to be vuh handle of duh knife. Vuh fumb took duh knife and he started sticking it in vuh trunk of vuh shit tree. It was well psycho. He was stickin duh knife in vuh tree like vuh tree was someone vat he really fuckin hated bad. Was well weird. Dint end vere voh. Soon as he was finished stickin duh knife in, he let his hand fall and he let duh knife go, duh way you would if youd just forgotten what it was you were doin. Duh knife dropt to vuh ground just behind him but he dint even look at it. He had his hands up, both of em, and vey were checking out vee hole what heed made in vuh shit tree. Was ven vat I started feelin all sortof proprietorial tward vuh shit tree cos – I fought ven – who was vis fucker comin along and stickin his knife in our shit tree?

I dint get too far wiv vat fought cos den he did what I fought was vuh weirdest fing yet: vuh fumb put his mouf to vee hole in vuh shit tree. Vere I  was, lyin vere up on vee embankment watchin vis dolly cunt stab vuh shit tree an make an nole and ven he put his mouf to vee ole and I tell you I dint know what vuh fuck to make of it, I dint honestly. For a minute I fought he was eating duh bark and ven I fought maybe he ‘d made a mouth in vuh trunk wiv his knife sose he could kiss vuh tree and ven I just stared wiv mi mouf open and mi eyes wide cos I dint get it, I just dint get it at all. Vuh fumb had his mouf up against vuh tree and his eyes closed and he held vuh trunk duh way youd hold up a trophy if you was a football champion or somefin. He stayed like vat voh, on his knees wiv his mouf pressed up against vee hole heed made for about five minutes. I cunt take mi eyes offof him. I cunt, honest. Vere came a point voh when he lowered one of his hands into vuh shit at duh foot ov vuh tree and he plunged his hand in and took up a good handful of vuh wet dog shit and – for one horrible fuckin minute I fought he was gonna smear it over his face or eat it or somefin. But he dint. He had vis handful of wet dogshit and he brought it up to dee hole an at vuh last minute he jerked his head away and filled vee hole wiv vuh shit. He held vee hand vat ‘d brought vuh shit up over vee hole and he lowered his uvver hand and plunged vat in shit and he brought up annuva handful of shit and he plastered vat over vee hole and he lowered his first hand again back into vuh shit and so it went on until heed got shit all over vuh trunk of vuh tree and all over his hands and all over his coat and his trousers and his face. Vuh fumb was totally covered in shit. Was fuckin horrible.

When vee hole was covered, voh, vuh fumb – who looked a sight by vis point – got to his feet some’ow and sortof drunkenly wandered off. He looked like mi dad after mi dad ‘d had a night on vuh sauce.

And me? I just lay vere watching him go, wonderin what duh fuck it was I’d just caught an eye full of.

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2 Responses to “Vuh Shit Tree ~ Peter Wild ~ Part 2”

  1. […] shit tree by peter wild ~ part one part two part three part […]

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