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Bridge Street.
Chapter 9 - Graft-on.
Back to the toilets where Tracy is still in the lift, the heavy metal doors opening back up, the gents toilet door breaks opens the wrong way, the cause for this is Bobby throwing a Z, that I presume was taking a dump, because of his trousers also boxers are around his ankles, through it followed by himself, with some force. A man that throws people out from night clubs for a living, just tossed this Z like it was nothing. Full on carnage within a matter of seconds. Bobby makes it back to his feet, the Z doesn’t have the same kind of luck because of a shard of door that is sticking out from his head. He is dusting himself while walking back to Tracy in the lift, pulling some tissue out from his pocket.
Bobby saying “Got what we needed.”
He is pressing the blood smeared panel, hopefully getting the ground floor button, looking at the Z, blood leaking down the shard of wood from his head wound.
A woman’s voice breaks the silence “Lift going down.”
Tracy says “That’s a good start.”
The doors are shutting while Bobby drops the bloody tissue.
Back to the now group of five, after everyone has introduced themselves, they walk through the traffic lights, that divides town centre where they come from, to the Grafton centre where they are going. They can hear smacking on some...
Back to the toilets where Tracy is still in the lift, the heavy metal doors opening back up, the gents toilet door breaks opens the wrong way, the cause for this is Bobby throwing a Z, that I presume was taking a dump, because of his trousers also boxers are around his ankles, through it followed by himself, with some force. A man that throws people out from night clubs for a living, just tossed this Z like it was nothing. Full on carnage within a matter of seconds. Bobby makes it back to his feet, the Z doesn’t have the same kind of luck because of a shard of door that is sticking out from his head. He is dusting himself while walking back to Tracy in the lift, pulling some tissue out from his pocket.
Bobby saying “Got what we needed.”
He is pressing the blood smeared panel, hopefully getting the ground floor button, looking at the Z, blood leaking down the shard of wood from his head wound.
A woman’s voice breaks the silence “Lift going down.”
Tracy says “That’s a good start.”
The doors are shutting while Bobby drops the bloody tissue.
Back to the now group of five, after everyone has introduced themselves, they walk through the traffic lights, that divides town centre where they come from, to the Grafton centre where they are going. They can hear smacking on some...
