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A Week And A Day In The Lives Of Two Angry Young Men
by: Jonathan Antony Strickland
Lettering used for Wilber’s diary
Lettering used for Sebastian’s diary
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Friday 1st,
Finished work today, thank god. A weekend away from the BIG city, I can't wait for a break. I'm going to visit Sebastian, an old acquaintance who's invited me over for the weekend, which in truth is a bit odd really as we've never been friends? Not that I have anything against the poor sap, I always found him something of a joke. It's him who doesn't like me. He's always struck me as an attention seeker, always wanted to be better than everybody else. Still the last time I saw him was three years ago when we were teenagers. I remember we had both just left university, I'd finished studying for my degree in politics and he (if I remember rightly) was studying cookery, or Home Economics as he used to call it.
Before I'd gotten into studying politics I'd actually tried this myself for a bit before deciding it was crap and no challenge what-so-ever. Those few weeks when I did do it, I remember poor old Seb would struggle like fuck. There he was everyday, sweating, red faced and with something or other on fire. Me, well my stuff could have been made for a king. I guess I just have an unnatural talent for cooking!
I remember the party afterwards when everybody got there grades back, it was mad. We went to some disco out of town and I remember getting completely pissed. My one good memory of the night was when I was caught behind this old bus shelter that stunk to high heaven of piss and vomit. I was shagging this bird that Seb apparently had had his eye on for months. Funny isn’t it the amount of memories that come back to me when I'm writing in you about long almost forgotten times of youth.
Although grumpy old Seb may have changed, I think I’ve still might have guessed the reason why he has asked me over. Apparently there's a competition for best cook on at the local old folk’s home, and of course he is entering. He wants me to enter as well. I reckon for once in his life he wants to put one over on me. (Ha Ha)…Yep that sounds like old Seb.
Anyway, who cares? I'm off to bed now, got to catch the 6.00am train in the morning that will take me into Tremwell.
Goodnight!
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Friday 1st,
The demon cometh today, the one who I can not forget. I’ve lived in the creatures shadow for far too long. No more will my life be the putrid cesspool that has become everyday living. No more will I walk the streets with head down low. No more will I hear there skits, there jibes and there titters as I walk past. No more…
Oh, how I will smile and joke with him and welcome him into my humble home with open arms. I will laugh about past times with him and no doubt he will mock me. Oh yes, I might not have achieved what that slime- ball has but then I was not born with the rich mammy and daddy that he had. He, as a child, had a private education, but I "Ha" I went to a comprehensive school with all the trash and scum that fill the back alleys of every great town.
The challenge has been accepted by him. The dumb fool does not realise he has walked straight into the hunters trap. And once I stand before him with golden prize in hand, it will be me, yes me I say, who will mock and look down on him.
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Saturday 2nd,
It's been an interesting day to say the least. Seb's definitely not the Seb that I remember. Charming, witty, laughs at my jokes! He was even giggling when I reminded him about all those times at college me and him used to argue. He admits now all those arguments were caused by him. It's amazing; you just don't expect that kind of change in a person (especially Seb). I’ve gotta admit I've honestly misjudged the young fool. Anyway, to tell the truth I'm looking forward now to the competition. Got no chance of winning it, seems Seb has got that one stitched up. Apparently he said he went back to college for a year after I had left and studied like crazy. Now his a full time chief with men working under him…Amazing what! What a guy, he made me a full fledged English breakfast when I arrived. Fucking gorgeous it was. Anyway, to tell the truth I hope he does win the prize. In the whole of Tremwell I bet there's not a nicer bloke.
Anyway, enough writing in you for now. Tomorrow will be here in a few short hours and I need to get my sleep. Oh, nearly forgot, the prize for winning Seb told me is a gold plated spoon. Ha, a golden plated spoon of all things. Ar tells ya what, these townies. I almost forgot what a bunch of tits they all are.
Goodnight!
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Saturday 2nd,
Today I sunk low, down through the depths as I walked, talked, laughed and joked with Satan’s spawn. All for a cause I kept telling myself, the days pain and misery was all for a cause. Knowing this is what has kept me going, knowing that my own personal demons will be exercised and that the demon who gave me demons will be put in his place once and for all. Yes it will be all worth it, all worth it when I hold up the golden spoon in front of his face and say to him "I beat you". I beat you good. I wopped your ass. I disgraced you in front of everybody. You’re nothing. You’re…pathetic.
Soon, Soon the morrow will come. First the competition, and then VICTORY. YES, YES, YES, VICTORY, VICTORY, VICTORY. And the dark one will crawl back to the city, half the man he was when he departed a few days ago.
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Sunday 3rd,
Un-fucking-believable I won. Ha, what a laugh and a half. Jesus I can't believe it. I wouldn’t care but the competition was bloody good, and all I made was a traditional English breakfast. After what Seb had made me it was all I could think of.
Turns out that the guy they got to judge the competition is one of the old fogies who as a special treat to him because it was his 87th birthday, they let him judge the comp. Apparently he used to work as a farmer, one of these old day kinds. "By ek, eee bar gum", you know, that sort.
Anyway it turns out that because of his heart he's on a special diet, however just for today they let him tuck into all the meals as a treat. Being the traditional English farmer and everything, the old English breakfast is his favourite meal in the whole world. Ar wouldn’t care but the other cooks there made all sorts of dishes that could have graced the top restaurants in the world. Seb made a lobster surprise, which even I've got to admit was out of this world. Funny thing is he only got second prize. So I was presented the golden spoon and Seb got this old wooden one.
He's not talking to me by the way, went bright red with rage at the presentation and when I told him "never mind if it really matters to you, you can have my Gold spoon instead of the wooden one", he went off it. Started shouting and screaming how I'd fixed it just so I could always be better than him. Then he called me a thick arsehole and that any moronic idiot knew that they were ladles and not spoons!
Still, when all's said and done I have enjoyed the break away, and today’s been good. What a laugh that competition was. Poor Seb, I'm sure he will have forgotten all about it in the morning. It's not his fault his the way he is.
Eh, what the hell am I writing, of course it's his fault. The sad bastards always been that way…(Ha, Ha, Ha).
Got to get to bed now. Back to work in the morning and the train leaves at six. (YAWN). Got the boss coming over to check on my work. I reckon he'll be pleased, in fact ah think I'll ask the old bastard for a raise.
Goodnight!
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Sunday 3rd,
Aaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrggggghhhhhhhhhhh................bastard, fucker, shithead, motherfucking, twating piece of dickwipe bastard, bastard
BBBBBBBBBBAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSTTTTTTTTTTAAAAAAAA
ARRRRRRRRRRDDDDDDDDDDD . I HATE HIM, I HATE HIM, I HATE I HHHHHHAAAAAATTTTTTTTEEEEE HIM.
I'll get the twat, just you watch. Willber fuckwit, you aint getting one over on me so easily, you arsewipe. I'm gonna, I'm gonna, I'm gonna spit, piss and fart on your fucking grave.
Oh I hear you. Your in my spare bedroom, and I know, I just know your laughing at me. I'll kill ya if I have ta. Wooden twating spoon, I’ll give ya wooden twating spoon.
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Monday 4th,
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Monday 4th,
Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes, oh yes. Oh marvellous, glorious, wonderful days.
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Tuesday 5th,
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Tuesday 5th,
A new life. No more worries. No more thinking about him any-more. Revenge in the end has been mine and only mine.
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Wednesday 6th,
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Wednesday 6th,
Perhaps I'll move out of this shitty little village now he's shadow has finally left me. Finally I can move on with my life. Before it had been the case that wherever I was to go, his presence would be there, nose up-turned, looking at me as though I was some kind of disease.
But now it is me who will look down on him. It's funny but I feel as though I have been re-born.
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Thursday 7th,
Oh god do I feel like shit. I don't know what has happened. The doctor says I need to rest. My head is aching and there's a pain like no other in my stomach. Got to stop writing now. The pain…Doctor says he'll explain in the morning. Need to rest.
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Thursday 7th,
The sniggering has stopped. I walked down the street today and there where no glares of hate or mistrust in there eyes when they looked at me. People, I'm sure, are looking up to me as they did with him. I am metamorphosing, were will it end. Am I a............ GOD.
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Friday 8th,
That fucking fruit cake. The fucking mad bastards tried to kill me I'm sure. Why? What the fuck is wrong with that guy?
The doctors explained that I was found unconscious on the streets of Tremwell. Bringing me into the hospitable they found that I had suffered a blow to my head. I'd also lost a lot of blood and for three days I've been in a coma. The blood had not been lost because of the blow to the head though, fortunately the doctor discovered that I had had a large object inserted into my arse.
The object had been put in with incredible force. The doctor expects it was kicked. After explaining to me what had happened he showed me the object in question. A large wooden spoon (or a fucking ladle as he likes to call it). It had broken in two as it had been shoved up sideways!
Afterwards, police came and asked me questions but I've said I do not know who could have carried out such a vicious attack on me.
I have friends on the outside and I intend to deal with Sebastian through them. I’ve got it all worked out. Poor little Sebastian is going to learn one vital lesson, and that is when a gold plated metal spoon is inserted sideways it does not break.
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Friday 8th,
Hear me, fear me. I am the slayer of the dark knight, the one they called Wilber-le-dickwipe. The evil one. Fear my wrath for I will rule the world.
Ya Ha Waa Hoo. I'm Sebastian the Great. King of the Leprechauns.
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THE END