Mikey waves ehs hand n shakes ehs heid. — Naw, Spud. No in likes ay drinks n that, eh laughs, hudin up his pint. — But it works better freezin organs.
— Keeps thum tip-top till auld transplant, likesay?
— Bang on the money! Ye open the boax n the cunt starts tae deteriorate n it’s fuckin useless, ay?
— But the transportation ay this, man, is it no a bit dodgy?
— Well, ye cannae take it through airport security, but ye kin git it oan trains easy enough. A boy meets ye wi it at the Istanbul airport and you just jump oan the train tae Berlin. Another gadge picks it up, you bounce tae the airport in a Joe Baxi n head hame, five hundred bar richer. N that’s eftir ah front ye another five hundred bar right now. Cannae say fairer than that.
Five hundred bar… right now… — Whaes kidney is it?
— A doner’s.
— Like some deid gadgie’s?
— Aye… well, no necessarily, cause ye can live fine wi just one, Mikey says, then goes aw thoughtful. — It might be somebody daein this for one ay thair family. Ah dinnae ken. Ah’m no gaunny say tae Vic Syme… n eh looks at ays n droaps ehs voice, — ah’m no gaunny say tae the boy that runs the saunas, where’s this came fae and where’s it gaun? Ma motto is ask nae questions n yi’ll git telt nae lies. Here’s aw the paperwork, eh sais n passes ays a certificate.
It looks like something ye could git oaf that Internet, likesay download, so ah suppose that makes it sortay official enough. — It’s goat tae be snide though… Vic Syme, likesay… ah goes. Dinnae ken the boy but that jungle cat has the rep ay bein a sabre-toothed killer.
— Well, mate, there’s ey gaunny be risks, n it’s obviously black-market goods, it’ll be some private clinic daein the op, aye. But the job’s yours if ye want it, Mikey sais. — Aw ah kin say is that they’ve been daein a lot ay this sortay stuff and thuv no hud any bother yet, n eh pits an envelope stuffed wi readies oan the table.
Ah think aboot this, a wee adventure, and lit’s face el factos, thaire’s nowt else doon fir ays. — No sayin nowt against naebody, Mikey, but ur they people, likesay Vic Syme, ur they trustworthy, ken? Ah’m no wantin in if naebody is trustworthy.
— Spud, you ken me, Mikey shrugs.
N it’s true, cause ah’ve sort ay kent um for years. N eh’s no ey been trustworthy ehsel, but ah’ve no either. Mibbe he’s changed n aw. Ye huv tae gie folks the benefit ay the doubt. He’s giein me a second chance, so ah’ve goat tae gie him yin. Ah’ve nowt tae lose. — Aye, sound, n ah reaches ower n takes the envelope, like that boy in Mission: Impossible, the wee gadgie in Hollywood that wis in Top Gun wi the barry bird wi the great hair that ye nivir hear nowt aboot now. The tape or whatever’s inside disnae self-destruct but, so it’s aw good! — Ah wisnae tryin tae be wide, or cast any aspersions, Mikey, that wis jist me daein ma due diligence, ken?
— Nae offence taken, bud. Goat tae keep the heid screwed oan. Ah’d be much mair nervous giein the joab tae some daftie that wisnae askin they sort ay questions. Gies ays confidence that ah’ve picked the right boy for the mission!
N eh pure yazed the word mission, which makes ays feel barry. We clink glesses. — Aye, man, ah’ll dae it awright.
— Great, kent ah could count oan ye, ma auld mucker, Mikey goes. — N Spud, try n tidy yirsel up a wee bit, ay, mate?
Ah ken that Mikey’s no bein wide, eh jist doesnae want ays likesay standin oot gaun through Checkpoint Charlie or wherever it is. — Wi this dosh, the answer tae that is basically, aye, catboy.
5
RENTON – CLIENT CONFIDENTIALITY
I love dance music, but draw the line at DJs: pish situation tae be in when you’re a manager ay them. It never used tae be like that – some DJs were fuck-ups, aye, but most weren’t, they were just people who loved clubs and dance music. That changed when those entitled straight-peg millennial cunts took ower – a very general rule of thumb, and aye, exceptions abound but: the more money they get paid, the mair ay a prick the DJ is. So as I made poppy, I worked with mair grandiose, vainglorious arseholes, then, after I built his career, one ay the fuckers sacked me – Ivan – long-haired, silent Belgian cunt – it happens – it’s no a hard-luck story, ah’ve done okay, jist an illustration that you need a thick fucking skin in this game. I have to get those DJ cunts out their fucking beds in the afternoon, procure them drugs fae scumbag promoters, sometimes pull them oot ay the fuckin jail, and even mair galling, argue the toss with corporate lackeys about publishing royalties. But the worst ay it: I have tae try tae get the bastards laid – this is no always as easy as it soundzzzz –
Lying on my bed in a truly sybaritic penthouse suite in this Vegas hotel. It’s divided into two bedrooms, each with a marble bathroom, and a large living room with a luxury kitchen and an ornate fireplace. Of course, it’s on account and a tax write-off, but I’m so jet-lagged after this Edinburgh–London–Amsterdam–Barcelona–LA–Vegas travelthon that I scarcely know where the fuck I am or what I’m meant to be doing, in fact I’m unable to grab hud ay a single thought. Despite having slid just one solitary Ambien (and a Vallie) down the hatch, this fucking laughing gas they pump intae the room, tae keep ye at the tables doonstairs twenty-four/seven, ensures sleep remains beyond ays. All I can dae now is lie back and catch up on Game of Thrones. Then a rap on my door, and I pull my carcass off the bed and let Conrad in. The Technonerd felly comes right tae the point. — I cannot sleep now, and I will not later in the morning in Los Angeles. I need to be with a woman!
— Fine. I freeze the image on the screen, and sit up, my head woozy. Dinnae ken if I buy Jon Snow coming back from the dead, but that’s a straightforward task compared tae mine. Conrad was a leanish young Dutch boy just two years ago. Then he started spunking a fair chunk ay his new-found wealth on food, and the cunt isnae that discerning. What’s sadder than a young millionaire ordering the limo tae pull up ootside a fuckin McDonald’s? When you’re the daft cunt that has tae go in and buy the shit that’s sending his cash cow tae type 2 diabetes. He literally cannae stoap eating. It’s aw tae dae wi the munchies, cause eh smokes tons ay weed. Now, at twenty-two, the cunt is a wheezing tub ay lard. I can feel my ain arteries furring just by standin next tae him.
— But the woman has to be dark-haired, Conrad’s round, entitled baby-face insists, the whistle of his Dutch voice exacerbated by the thin gasp ay burgeoning respiratory disease. — And she has to have medium-sized breasts; they cannot be small, but they must not be too heavy and pendulous. No implants. And lips that are full, but natural –
I cut him off. — Conny, you’ve obviously been wanking off tae porn. Just cut tae the chase and show me the adult entertainment performer who is blessed tae be the object of this superstar DJ’s desire.
He looks briefly at me as if irony is something he almost gets, and pulls out his phone. Fortunately, the porn star has a website and does escort services, and is based in LA. If I can deliver her it saves me spending fucking years in a futile search for a lassie that looks like her. When you’re doing this on behalf of somebody else, it’s the most spirit-crushing employment imaginable. It will cost a pretty penny but that sad little twat is the one bringing in the cash, which makes me just about the most pathetic cunt in Christendom. — If you want this yin, it’ll have to wait till the wee small hours of the morning, when we get back to LA. If your needs are immediate, there’s an agency here in Vegas I can call –