EGGS-IT WOUND

So I'm lying in bed with man-flu, re-reading the miraculous tome 'Homicide: Life on the Killing Streets', the book of true-life reportage around which the TV series The Wire was based. 

Unfortunately, I hear a knock at the door. And again. 

There's a rather emphatic quality to it, that prompts me to get out of bed and go to the front bedroom window for a view of the street. 

I look down and bloody typically, I see a UNIFORMED COP. 

Like any battle-hardened denizen of Baltimore's worst housing projects, I instinctively duck out of sight. I do a quick inventory-check in my head: 

'Have I murdered anyone lately? Threatened anyone? What about those close-calls on the bicycle the other night because I was in a hurry to get some cough sweets before the corner shop closed?' 

I close the file on that and open the one labelled 'white-collar crime': 'Have I attempted to manipulate the LIBOR? Swindle the Americans by selling fictitious Triple-A rated housing bonds?'

Only when I gave myself the all-clear did I answer the door, by which time the officer is three doors down, and having no luck, as is the norm in these neighbourhoods where life is cheap and there's a cooling corpse with a dumbfounded expression laying sprawled out on a curb, at intervals of every half an hour.

I go: 'What's up, officer?'

He goes, 'Did you see anything suspicious in this street on the night of the tenth?'

I go: 'What's the date today?'

'Erm....The thirteenth.'

I do a quick calculation and conclude that my commute ended at 11pm again, and so therefore, I would have missed the incident.

'What happened?' I ask nervously. 

He looks at me gravely and says, with a completely straight face,

'Three cars were egged on this road that night.'

KAYLA'S GOT IT IN 'ER YARD

Yo. Put yas lil sis on.

Is lil sis there?

I talk to sis, lahk.

Yo. Can yoo corl me?

I spendin’ Easter wiv ma famlee.

S’wot ah sed: Ma famlee.

E's mah key worker.

De one at de Jobcentre.

Yah.

Ah try ta get a appointmen'.

Mah appointmen'.

I want mah appointmen' wiv ma key worker.

E’s just wastin’ mah teym, man.

E’s just wastin’ mah teym, innit?

So. Hasim sed all she has to do is dat online bankin’ fing, innit?

I tol’ him ta let me knorr when it all goes keck, lahk.

Coz it’s easier, know wot I sayin’?

Maybe mah mom done dat. Coz ah don’t know ‘ow online bankin’ works.

It’s gonna say ‘Chantal’, innit?

Ahm on da treen.

Yo. I need da monnay now.

Maaaaaannnnn.

I tol’ dem, day put dat monnay in.

But she needs to contac’ dem, to see if da monnay when in.

Ma key worker.

No. I jus’ want him too corl me wiv a date.

I already tol’ dem.

When ‘e’s in. When ‘e’s actually in.

Das wot ahm tryin’ to say.

Ya sorted it aht nah.

Coz yoos fought ah wazzint gonna pay dat monnay, cha?

Das wot ah said n shit.

Woah, bruv.

How they gonna know?

Unless they got cameras in tha property, how they gonna know I’m there?

I wanna pay mah rent, man.

I wanna pay mah rent.

But they have’ta know I sacrificed tha rent for the par’ee.

So I pay another four’ee pahnds next week.

An’ de week after dat.

An’ when mah bro comes back to me, and says - 

‘yo tryin’ to take da piss, dude.’

When ‘e sez that, I can say -  

‘Mon, when mah bwoys come up, yah? I go dahn inna car and try a save monnay.’

Simple, yah?

Get a job, yah? Workin’, at least ya know ya gonna get ya monnay bwak, even if ah spend it, ya knorr?

Kayla’s got it in ‘er yard, innit?

So ah get mah stifficate on Wednesday, yah?

Yo, Steph. It’ll be easier when e’s at nursey.

If he’s at nursey, yoos can get a part-time job.

Steph, wah yoo listen ta peeple?

Wah yoo listen ta peeple?

You know dem African Caribbean peeple, dey strict, yah?

Dem African Caribbean peeple, dey don’t call it abuse.

Dey don’t abuse, but if yoo tark back...

Leyk, if yoo tark back to yer mom...

Dat’s why black men never tark back too yoo.

Listen.

I’s in a restaurant, yah?

An’ this was a white lady, yah?

An’ she had this four-year-old, yah?

An’ this four-yeah-old sed to her mom, yah? - ‘‘Shut the fwuck up, I don’t wanna listen too yoo.’’

If that was mah kid, I’d twist its ears off, yah?

I’d teck away all its toys, lahk, yah knorr?

Yo. Steph?

Yo.

I’s in de tunnel.

Fwuuuk. Dumb bitch.

Me meck ya pum-pum ‘appeh /

Me meck ya pum-pum creh /

Me meck ya pum-pum sing somm-teym /

La-la / La-la.

Yo. Steph? - Yoos there?

Ver’ black, I know.

Ver’ ghetto, man, ver’ ghetto.

Ay-ay-ay eye.

Ya don’t leyk monnay?.../

...An’ I jus’ wanna get friendly wiv ‘er /

Wanna get friendly wiv ‘er /

Ya see a big batty, where ya fine dat? /

- Can ah ‘ave a taxi, pleez?

Ahm goin’ ta Hawfawn Road, Handswerf.

Fank you so much.

Aht.

‘Ey, big batty gyal, good evenin’ /

I c’n see dat ya chicken needs seeznin’ /

Big batty gyal, good evenin’ /

I c’n see dat ya chicken needs seeznin’.

Yo. I kwalled you, bitch.

Ey lahk yoo too.

I do. I do I do I do.

Baby, bend ovah n breck ya back /

Bring ya friend over n breck ya back /

De way she bend over n breck ‘er back /

Ah nearly fell over n broke me back.

Yo. ‘Ave you ‘erd ‘is bars, blud?

Iss not abaht guns n niggas choppin’.

Young G.

Is it choo?

That CB was at the faht, yesterdee?

Was CB's at the faht?

CB’s related to Saucer?

Was CB’s dere?

Yo. Was CB’s at de faht?

How could CB’s be at de war, if ‘e’s in jell?

Ah ‘erd ‘e was in jell.

We greynd so hard, inner London /

Buh’ widdout big batty I can't funcshun.

Yeah. ‘I’s ‘ere. No. Ah sed, I’s ‘ere. I’s comin’ inta Birmingham raht nah.

S’wot ah sed.

Where yoos parked?

Ah’m still on de treen.

Aht.

Fwuuuk.

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