The Visitor

On Sunday evening there was a knock at the door. My first visitor since 'the incident'.

'Who is it?' I called.

'It's Sean, Andy's mate.'

I eyed the sword-stick Doug had given me, leaning against the wall. I pulled the door open as far as the chain would allow me to. 'What is it?' I snapped.

'Could I borrow a cup of sugar?' he asked.

'Could you kindly fuck off?' I spat before slamming the door in his face. Very, subtle Andy, very subtle. What were you trying to tell me there: that you have many followers and they're all out to get me? As I said, forewarned is forearmed. Emphasis on the latter part of that expression. Bring 'em on, as George W rather ill advisedly said. There's nothing I'd like better than an excuse to wipe one of those little pieces of filth off the face of the planet.