Isy Suttie: 'He pushed past me, hungry for the feel of steel and reinforced plastic between his legs ...'
The Shaggy Blog Story so far: Chapter one by Josie Long Chapter two by Marcus Brigstocke
Chapter three by Isy Suttie
"If only you'd said boneless banquet for two. I could have got the night off my job in the downtown café, and you and I could have..." He smirked so hard it stopped me in my tracks, his face turning to reveal that one cheek was slightly ruddier than the other.
"Featherless feast for five", he hissed now, and I realised that he was just talking semi-alliterative words. He was so pumped up on muscle-maxing, mind-mashing tabs he didn't know what he was hissing. By Jove, I loved Brendan. Every day I'd watch him pump iron in that gym and boast to all the pretty girls about stuff he'd stolen. He mainly stole from fêtes and pea and pie suppers, just for the buzz of it. His best swoop, I'd overheard him say to Karen on the treadmills, was on a single day in June when he'd lifted a pet rosette and two pirate outfits from a school gala, then four salt shakers and thirty unused paper plates from an Women's Institute supper. He'd tried to steal one of the actual ladies, but she'd liked it so much that he'd put her back. Brendan Betabundel was the only reason I still went to that dastardly gym, and the only reason I'd joined the WI.
He pushed past me, hungry for the feel of steel and reinforced plastic between his legs, and I stumbled onto the street, lovelorn and cold. I rubbed my tattoo. Now I was going to be late for my job at the café. And that meant only one thing.
Tomorrow: Rob Deering continues the story.
