The Bullingdon Boys

This was a little short story that I did for my friend Richard Hennerley’s web site. I’ve made a few cosmetic changes to it and decided to put it here.

I hope that it really offends some people. You know who you are.

The Bullingdon Boys

The young man with the pointed noise picked up the ashtray and admired its austere simplicity. ‘See this?’ he said in a too expense voice to the fat boy with the albino hair, ‘It’s a murder weapon.’

‘Don’t be an arse,’ said his friend who was also an enemy. ‘It’s a fucking ashtray. Any dozy fucker can see that.’

‘To you it may be an ashtray,’ said Pointed Nose. ‘But to me it’s a weapon that could destroy the world.’

‘It’s a fucking ashtray,’ said White Hair.

In the overpowering din of the Bullingdon Club in-bred faces merged in the smoke. Screams and yells of pain and pleasure floated on the air. Teenage acne combined with brandy and cigars and the salty smell of banknotes. In the corner of the vast dining room lay the corpse of a barman who had been too slow. Members tried their best to ignore the still warm body as they made their way to the coke room, where, sobbing on a sofa doused with blood was a nineteen-year-old humanities student whose name was unimportant. She was trying to earn extra money for the summer and had been routinely gang raped by 15 or 16 drunken club members. They had laughed as she cried for her mother.

‘Watch me,’ said Pointed Nose, beckoning over a worried looking waiter. ‘Hurry up man!’

White Hair looked in vague curiosity as the man lowered his head towards Pointed Nose. The was an explosion of blood – like a firework going off – as the ashtray was smashed on to the waiter’s forehead. The sound of the skull cracking forced a reluctant snigger from White Hair. ‘You fucking bastard… You fucking cunt,’ he said, neither pleased nor displeased.

As the waiter slumped groaning to the floor there we further screams in the room. Some of the screams came from the hordes of drunken onlookers but most came from the naked black girl. Her screams intermingled with her moans and the understanding that these were her last minutes on Earth. She was crudely trussed up with rope and hanging upside down from the ceiling. Some threw darts at her sweating body, others jabbed at her with complimentary scalpels that they had found in their goodie bags.

Pointed Nose put his arm around White Hair. ‘We must talk alone,’ he said, leading his companion into one of the many small private rooms in the upstairs of the club that were used for drug taking and fucking and killing.

In the silence of the room Pointed Nose lit up a pre-rolled joint and lazily inhaled. ‘Father’s been talking to me,’ he said. ‘He’s been making plans and for better or worse you’re part of them.’

White Hair’s features slowly reassembled themselves. In the half light you could not be sure if the expression was a laugh or a frown. ‘Really…’ he said. ‘What’s the old fucker been saying now?’

‘Well daddy’s bought me a place in government. I’m to start in a fairly low key position, get my feet under the table, so to speak. But that will change quickly. In under three years he assures me I will be in a top position.’

‘Fucking government,’ said White Hair. ‘It’s so fucking old hat. The real money is to made in banking. Everyone knows that…’

Pointed Nose moved his face towards the other man conspiratorially. ‘A word to the wise,’ he winked. ‘I have it on very good authority that the bottom is about to fall out of the banking market. All the smart money is moving into government. There’s a killing to be made. You have to back the right horse you know.’

‘Really? Is that so? So where do I fit in?’

‘Well father’s always had a bit of a soft spot for you – fuck knows why. He intends to keep me in a top position for five or six years. Meanwhile, we’ll get something to keep you ticking over.’

‘Such as?’

‘I don’t know… Minister Of Sport or something.’

‘Sorry… Not interested.’

‘Oh all right. How about mayor?’

White Hair moved his eyes to the ceiling and thought for a moment. ‘I’m sure you’re aware that I’ve already received a lot of perfectly serviceable offers?’

’Such as?’

‘Well there’s Richard… And Rupert for starters.’

‘Oh come on. Be serious.’

‘Hmm. I suppose you’re right.

‘You know I am.’

‘So what’s the plan?’

‘Well as I say, I’ll be there for a few years. Kick things off. Then, when the time’s right we’ll move you up, I’ll slip into the background. Bugger off to France or something. And we’ll all make a lot of money.’

A frown began to spread over White Hair’s bulging face. ‘But you hate people,’ he said. ‘You fucking hate them. And you’ll be expected to kiss babies and be fucking nice to all those working class plebs.’

‘I can be nice to anybody if you pay me enough.’

‘I’m not sure that I can, though.’

‘You can when you see the size of the pay cheque that’s waiting for you. Listen, we’re in a position to squeeze this country dry. Everybody knows that the common man is fed up with Tony and Gordon. There’s never been a better time for moving in and making your money.’

‘Tony and Gordon. What a pair of fucking buffoons…’

‘That’s right. So is it agreed? I move in. Start the ball rolling, and then you take over and I, of course, take my small percentage.’

‘A very small percentage – I can assure you of that.’

‘Naturally.’

‘Well it’s the best offer I’ve had so far.’

‘It’s agreed then.’

Hands that resembled talons were shaken as Pointed Nose and White Hair climbed to their feet and smiled at each other with twinkling young eyes.

‘I’m in the mood to celebrate,’ said White Hair, suddenly animated. ‘Let’s freebase. And then there’s one of those chicks with dicks downstairs that I’m going to fuck up the arse…’

‘You’re outrageous!’ laughed Pointed Nose at his fat companion.

‘…And then you and I are going to smash this fucking town to pieces.’