Quid McCoys phone rang twice and no more.

"'ello."

"You motherfucker. You son of a bitch! I hate you ... oohhhhhh. I hate your guts you piece of shit!"

"....mom?"

"No it's not your mom you motherfucker. I can't wait to spit on your grave. I'm gonna dig you up and take a constitutional on your grimy body you slack jawed bastard!"

"... who is this?"

"Who!? You don't recognize my voice you piss jowled fucktard! It's only been three long years I've been rotting in a prison of your making and I just finally escaped and now I'm gonna do your life dirty you quarter slut!"

Quid was nonplussed. He took a sip from his aged brandy lit a long cigarette.

".. I'm afraid you have me at a loss."

"You son of a.. Steve. Steven Harlan Brooks you bitch made, mark ass trick! My fo fo gon make sure your kids don't grow! Westside mofucka!!"

"Oh, that Steve. How have you been?"

"Locked up in the prison you built asshole! You set my brand new four door Mazda on fire! It was a quality car! And the price, riding around in luxury on a workers salary! You stole my wife! You shipped my kids off to boarding school! In a country with a bad reputation! Not because of the people, god bless em.. but their parliament is corrupt as all hell you slimy, two toed, cockeyed slackard! I'm gonna drill a hole in the side your head big enough for me to bang. ya dig?!"

".. oh ok, That Steve. I thought you were somebody else. Um.. fuck you."

end call
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