Hamish McShanks

Hamish McShanks Secret Diary w/e 10^th July 2005

Whum whum whum whum ‘mmm whassat’ whum whum whum whum ‘msgfffmm’ I rolled over and fumbled for my alarm clock somewhere on the bedside cabinet. The grainy red digits informed me it was 4:02am. That’s A fecking M!. ‘What the fu-‘ WHUM WHUM. I struggled out of bed and peered out the window. Two helicopters were circling overhead. They were flying in a large arc around Bannockburn town centre; a mere stones throw away (quite literally as it turned out). ‘Bloody swampys’ I grumbled before closing the window and falling back into bed.

The leaders of the eight richest nations on the planet were having there annual jolly at the Gleneagles Hotel in bonny Scotland. This venue had been carefully chosen because it’s in the arse end of nowhere and has absolutely no transport infrastructure. Thereby making it difficult for protestors to descend and disturb the fatboys of the world as they divvy up the worlds ‘pie’ amongst themselves. The fact that it’s a five star hotel with a championship quality golf course and spa facilities of world renown is neither here nor there…..

Anyway as a result several thousand protestors had set up home in the next nearest conurbation (Stirling) Our wonderful friendly council had even provided a campsite for them on the outskirts of town next to the ‘retail’ park. The councils reasoning presumably being ‘if were nice to them they’ll be nice to us’. Sadly they overlooked the minor flaw that if you lodge two thousand anti-capitalist and anarchist protestors next to a collection of globally branded companies and fast food outlets your asking for trouble.

It’s like going ‘Hmmm wasps like sugar don’t they’, ‘so if we give the wasps some sugar they’ll leave us alone’ then covering your todger with raspberry jam and shoving it into a wasps nest. You can’t really complain when you get stung.

The helicopters overhead were ‘monitoring’ our swampy friends as they rampaged through Stirling and Bannockburn. We found out later that they had trashed the local Burger King and Pizza Hut restaurants. Which on one hand was an act of mindless violence, which should be condemned in the strongest possible terms but on the other hand did improve the standard of local cuisine quite considerably.

There was a slightly less violent, but equally unpleasant, protest the previous day. One of the ‘Eco-Village’ residents (as the campsite had been christened) A dreadlocked and completely unwashed young man was spotted ranting and gesticulating outside a McDonalds restaurant in the high street. He finished his tirade by theatrically gobbing onto the front window. How delightful, and clearly an action which will bring the corporation to their knees. It’s only a matter of time before they capitulate, remove themselves from the stock exchange, and turn their company into a ‘community collective’ Well done that man …..

Now don’t get me wrong I’m all for the right to protest, I really am. I would describe myself as ‘liberal’ in outlook. But when I am woken from my slumber at four in the fecking morning I have to concede that my feelings veer somewhat right of centre.

These feelings strengthened as I heard sirens wailing and another helicopter joined the cacophony of sound that was filling the air ‘For fuc-‘ I hugged two pillows against my ears and pulled the duvet over my head. It was no use, I had no chance of getting back to sleep. I was getting tetchy.

‘Right ye feckers, ye want a rammy, I’ll gie ye a rammy’ I jumped out of bed and pulled on my jeans ‘four in the bleeding morning’. My grousing continued unabated as I set up the ladder and headed into the loft. Ten minutes of rummaging and I located what I was looking for….

‘Hmmm’ my old pistol-crossbow didn’t look quite as fearsome as I had remembered it (everything is bigger when your eight years old). I blew the dust of it and held it up to my eye ‘it’s just like riding a bike, you never forget’ I grinned. Conveniently blocking out the fact that it had taken me several years to learn to ride a bike. You would have though the humiliation of having stabilisers till I was thirteen would have stayed with me but the mind plays tricks on you as you get older.

Thrilled at locating my weapon and undeterred by the fact there was a near thirty year gap since it had last been used I clambered down the ladder. I suppose if I was willing to block out the fact that as a kid I was such a poor shot I couldn’t hit a coos arse with a banjo then worrying about it’s serviceability after three decades rusting in the loft was not an issue.

I headed for the kitchen, dived under the sink and located the boot polish. After blackening up I examined the crossbow bolts. My sleep deprived brain was conjuring up images of Amazonian Indians tipping their arrows with poison and I started to grin evilly. Even in my current delusional state I surmised that actually killing protesters was likely to get me fifteen to twenty without parole so I elected to create ‘tranquilliser’ darts instead.

A quick inventory of the medicine cabinet failed to reveal any convenient vials of barbiturates or phenothianzines ‘Hmmm time to improvise’. It took ten minutes to prepare my solution of night nurse, benylin ‘chesty’ and antihistamine. I had to simmer it down until it was viscous enough to coat the bolts ‘Night night boys’ I giggled as I slipped half a dozen ‘darts’ into my belt.

I was just about to slip out the door when I thought it might be prudent to test fire my weapon. No point in finding out it’s faulty in the heat of battle. I snuck out into the back garden and kneeled behind the wheelie bin. The shed door was in my sights as I pulled back the bowstring. The years hadn’t been kind and it was as tight as piano wire ‘Jesuuuus’ I grunted before finally cocking the weapon. There were strange whining noises emanating from the bow as I loaded a bolt ‘Ok lets see how-‘ TWANG! Bing cachiiing thuuuud ‘oommppff’

When I came round I was face down in a plant pot, a crossbow bolt embedded in my left buttock. You try explaining that in A& E. The doctor said the wound would be fine but not to drive or operate any heavy machinery for a couple of days.

Doei