Hamish McShanks

Hamish McShanks Secret Diary w/e 12^th March 06

‘C’mon get yer skates on it’s nearly one o’clock’, ‘just hud yer horses laddy there’s nae a fire’, ‘no but there are cheap pies and beans at the club so shift yer airse!’ My brother shook his head and gave me a withering glare ‘What are ye like? You only ever think of yer gut don’t ye!’, ‘Did I mention beers are half priceoooompff’ By the time I picked myself up he was already in the car and frantically honking the horn ‘I think I’ve found his Achilles liver’ I mumbled whilst dusting myself down.

The neighbours were peering out their windows as the cacophony of noise continued. He was bouncing up and down like a sugar-loaded five year old. I slowly and theatrically locked the front door and then strolled up to the car at as leisurely a pace as I could manage. He was giving me the mesma-death stare as I knocked on the drivers’ window. He wound down the window ‘WHAT!’ he shouted ‘I’d imagine you’ll be needing these?’ I smiled, handing him his trousers.

It seemed sensible that I should drive while he wrestled with his jeans in the back of the car. We were heading up to a local sports club to watch the latest round of the six nations. They were having a drinks and pie promotion, which catered perfectly for the Shanks twins. ‘How much further is it?’, ‘dry yer eyes laddy it’s up the top of this street’ I replied. Turning left I gunned the engine and then floored it. This was for two reasons, firstly it’s a long steep hill so I wanted some momentum. Secondly, and more importantly, it was my brothers’ car and I wanted to thrash the nuts off his new motor.

‘What’s this little red line for?’ I enquired, pointing at the dashboard and yelling above the roaring engine noise ‘change gear change gear’ he screamed hysterically ‘what? don’t you like this outfit?’, ‘change into second gear yefuuuckingidiot-‘ he yelled whilst pulling his fist back for a head shot. I obliged and we suddenly shot forward with sufficient momentum to make his right cross miss the target and strike the metal stanchion of the headrest instead. Oh such terrible language, I cant possibly repeat what he said, oh my ears are still recovering.

I parked up and we got out of the car. My brother was wrapping a handkerchief round his bloodied hand as he emerged ‘What was that you were saying in the car I didn’t quite catch you?’ I sniggered. If looks could kill I would have been toast ‘Nothing … aww for fuuu- would ye look at the front of my car’, ‘what?’, ‘ye’ve scraped the bumper ye fecking edjit’, ‘what?’ Genuinely worried, I ran round to the front of the car. Its one thing giving the engine a bit of a caning it’s quite another damaging bodywork. I bent down and peered at the bumper. There were no obvious marks ‘I cant see anyth-‘ with a feeling of sudden dread the penny dropped. A fraction of a second later his boot connected ‘ingooomppff’. It’s fortuitous indeed that I have an amply padded rear end, well it would have been had my testicles not born the brunt of the impact. I collapsed and rolled into a protective foetal position, albeit a tad on the late side.

‘Oh aye, yer right enough, it’s fine’ he replied, strolling inside ‘gnffmmmbaaaastard’

By the time I hobbled into the bar he was sitting at a table with two pints in front of him. I reached out for the nearest pint and he slapped my hand ‘uuuh uuuh uuuh get yer own drink’. Grumbling I limped to the bar and ordered a beer and four pies. ‘Is that everything luv?’, ‘ach gies another couple of pies’

I returned with my porcine booty and sat down. Fraz reached out for a pie and I slapped his hand ‘uuuh uuh uuuh get you own pie’ I retorted in my best sing song petulant five year olds voice. He just shook his head and drained his pint ‘You’re a child’, ‘at least I’m not ugly’ I snapped. Not the wittiest response ever I have to admit but my plums were still aching and I was in no mood to forgive or forget. He sculled the second pint in a one’er and got up ‘I’m getting another drink, want anymore pies fatboy?’ he enquired ‘fmmmuckmmoff’ I mumbled through my second pie.

I watched him stroll off. ‘I’ll give ye pie’ I thought as he stood at the bar with his back to me. I pulled the pastry off the top of one of my pies and tipped the contents of the ashtray inside. Deftly I re-attached the piecrust and sniggered as I placed the rogue pastry back on the plate nearest him. I knew he’d go for another one regardless of my protestations, that’s what he’s like ‘Oh your soooo predictable’ I chuckled as he returned from the bar ‘Not finished your pies yet?’, ‘Oh dear we are losing it in our old age’ He reached out for the pie of doom as I endeavoured to remain straight faced.

My heart was racing. I tried to act as casually as possible and not to stare at his hand. He was blissfully ignorant, his fingers were about to grasp the contaminated pastry, and oh this was going to be priceless. He scooped the pie up in one fluid movement and twisted it towards his mouth. I silently moved my weight on to my back foot so I could doge the impending collateral spatter. It was inches from his mouth ‘Hello boys’, ‘wha-‘ My sister in law came bounding into the bar and gave my brother a big hug and a kiss. Fraz was still clutching the pie ‘oh what a day I’ve walked for miles, I’m famished’ she picked it out of his hand.

‘Nooooooooo’ I lunged forward and snatched the offending pastry ‘what the bloody hell are you doing!’ My brother looked at me as if I was something he’d scraped off the bottom of his shoe. I quickly proffered the remaining two pies to Shirley ‘have one of these, they are much … uuum warmer’ My brother eyed me suspiciously as Shirl picked the nearest pie, I was lowering the dish when he snatched the last one on the plate ‘Oh look one each’ he smiled, quickly shoving the pie in his mouth.

My face fell, I was left holding the pig in the poke and my brother knew it ‘not having your pie?’ he enquired as he swallowed the last piece and watched the colour drain from my face. Hurriedly I ran through my options, they were limited, a tactical fumble was called for ‘Aye I’m just ….. oh butter fingers’ My brother had anticipated this lame ploy and had caught the descending item long before it hit the floor.

‘Oh dear oh dear’, ‘perhaps you should hold on with both hands’ he said placing my fingers on either side of the pie ‘there you are’ he continued in his primary school teacher voice ‘now you can yum it all up’, ‘yes well I’m not really that hungry’ I trailed off as his piercing glare bore into me.

Confucius say ‘What you do not want done to yourself, do not do to others’ Ham says ‘Just dinnay get caught’

Anyone got a nicorette pie?

Doei