Disnae Matter

s
t
o
r
i
e
s


Ah wis it that Disneyland
in Florida, ken. Took hur n the bairn. Wi me gittin peyed oaf fi Ferranti’s, ah thoat its either dae somethin wi the dough or pish it doon the bog it the Willie Muir. Ah saw whit happened tae a loat ay other cunts; living like kings fir a while: taxis ivraywhair, chinkies ivray night, cairry-oots, ye ken the score. N whit dae they huv tae show fir it? Scottish Fuckin Fitba Association, that’s what, ya cunt.

Now ah wisnae that keen oan Disneyland, bit ah thoat: fir the bairn’s sake, ken? Wish ah hudnae bothered. It wis shite. Big fuckin queues tae git oan aw the rides. That’s awright if ye like that sortay thing, but it’s no ma fuckin scene. The beer ower thair’s pish n aw. They go oan aboot aw thir beer, thir Budweiser n aw that; its like drinkin fuckin cauld water. One thing ah did like aboot the States though is the scran. Loadsay it, beyond yir wildest dreams, n the service n aw. Ah mind in one place ah sais tae hur: Fill yir fuckin boots while ye kin, hen, cause whin wi git back hame will be livin oafay McCain’s oven chips till fuck knows when.

Anywey, it this fuckin Disneyland shite, this daft cunt in a bear suit jumps oot in front ay us, ken? Wavin ehs airms aboot n that. The bairn starts fuckin screamin, gied ur a real fright, ken? So ah fuckin panels the cunt, punches the fuckin wide-o in the mooth, or whair ah thought ehs mooth wis, under that suit, ken? Too fuckin right! Disneyland or nae fuckin Disneyland, disnae gie the cunt the excuse tae jump oot in front ay the bairn, ken.

Thing is, these polis cunts, fuckin guns n aw ya cunt, nae fuckin joke, ah’m tellin ye, they sais tae ays: Whit’s the fucking score here, mate, bit likesay American, ken? So ah goes, noddin ower tae this bear cunt: Cunt jumped oot in front ay the bairn. Well ootay fuckin order. The polis cunt jist says somethin aboot the boy bein a bit too keen it ehs joab, ken. The other yin sais somethin like: Mibbe the wee lassie’s frightened ay bears, ken?

So then this radge in a yellay jaykit comes along. Ah tipples right away thit eh’s that bear cunt’s gaffer, likesay. Eh apologises tae ays, then turns tae the bear cunt n sais: Wir gaunny huv tae lit ye go mate. They wir jist gaunny, likes, gie the boy ehs fucking cairds like that. This is nae good tae us, eh tells the boy. This perr cunt in the bear suit, eh’s goat the head oaf now, likes; the cunt’s nearly greetin, gaun oan aboot needin the joab tae pey ehs wey through college. So ah gits a hud ay this radge in the yellay jaykit n sais: Hi mate, yir ootay order here. Thir’s nae need tae gie the boy ehs cairds. It’s aw sorted oot.

Mean tae say, ah banged the cunt awright, bit ah didnae want the boy tae lose ehs joab, ken. Ah ken whit it’s fuckin like. It’s aw a great laugh whin they chuck that redundancy poppy it ye, bit that disnae last firivir, ken. Aw they doss cunts thit blow the dough oan nowt. Thuv goat mates they nivir kent they hud—till the fuckin hireys run oot. Anywey, this supervisor radge goes: S’up tae you mate. You’re happy, cunt keeps ehs joab. Then eh turns tae the boy n sais: Yir fuckin lucky, ah’m tellin ye. If it wisnae fir the boy here, ken, ye’d be pickin up yir cairds, but this is aw American, likesay, ye ken how aw they doss cunts talk, oan the telly n that.

The cunt ah gubbed, this bear cunt goes: Really sorry, mate, ma fault, ken. So ah jist sais: Sound by me. The polis n the supervisor boy fucked off n the bear cunt turns n sais: Thanks a lot, buddy. Have a nice day. Ah thoat fir a minute, ah’ll fucking gie ye nice day, ya cunt, jumpin oot in front ay the fuckin bairn. Bit ah jist left it, ken, nae hassle tae the cunt. Boys entitled tae keep ehs joab; that wis ma good deed fir the day. Ah jist goes: Aye, you n aw, mate.

You Might Also Enjoy

Captain’s Table

Kate Christensen

For the past decade or so, I have been obsessed with news stories about cruise ships, in particular the idea of minor disasters at. . .

stories

Chayote

Kathleen Ossip

Like other gourds / chayote has a sprawling habit / and should only be planted if / there is plenty of room in the / garden.

poems

Watching Over

Linda Hogan

This land I watch over / is a place with old stories / and plant medicine. / It is earth a mountain lion walks . . .

poems

Baffler Newsletter

new email subscribers receive a digital copy of our current issue.

Further Reading

 July 2

Update: On June 12, 2018, a month after this article was filed, Nina Droz Franco stood before judge Aida Delgado Colón to. . .

Heads Up: We recently updated our privacy policy to clarify how and why we collect personal data. By using our site, you acknowledge that you have read and understand this policy.