Unspeakable Prickery

1

In 1982 I was twelve years old and in my last year of primary school education aka primary seven. This of course meant that we were the oldest chaps at our school, could stroll around the premises like The Duke Of Edinburgh of a lunch / break time and lord it over our cohorts in the years below us. Should any of the younger chaps show displeasure at our cavalier attitude towards school rules they would receive a size five up the rear end, a punch in the nose or both for their troubles.2

That all changed at the business end of August as our six week long summer holidays concluded and we made the transition from primary to secondary school. In other words we went from being big fish in a very small pond, to being small fish in an extremely large one.3

Now for those of you who have led an extremely sheltered existence allow me to bring you up to speed. All social groups of young red-blooded males, dratted arse bandits aside, love nothing better than showing or attempting to show other groups of like minded idiots who is boss, or to put it in layman’s terms, boys like fighting with one an other.4

We were no exception, as if there was no one around from our archrivals of Pikeytown, we would pick fights with the chaps from the years below us at school. This of course went both ways, as all of the chaps in the years above us would do likewise and attempt to kick seven shades of shit out of us.5

Scene set?6

Job done?7

Excellent!8

Step forward Lawrence Grub aka Gruber a thirteen-year-old boy who was completely peerless when it came to being a total prick. To make matters worse he had on more than one occasion been spotted about town donning a dungaree and donkey jacket combo.9

No doubt in homage to his favourite band, the never knowingly washed Dexys Midnight Runners. A band loosely describable as a shower of Fagin type characters or ner-do-wells, with an aversion to soap and a penchant for dungaree wearing. The song by which these would be wood tinkers were best know was the Pikey’s anthem “Come On Eileen”. No doubt a reference or indeed perhaps even a confession to some sexual shenanigans involving their own sisters or half cousins at the very least.10

Anyway back to Gruber and his unspeakable prickery. You see the problem was this; Gruber hung around with a gang of older chaps who were to put it mildly a bit tasty in the fisticuffs department and so by association tended to benefit from the same fearsome reputation.11

My associates Philip da Block and Bounce had been on the wrong end of Gruber’s Dr. Martin boots the week before. Their bruised ribs still bore testament to the fact that once Gruber’s minions had you on the ground you were and I quote “Toast!”12

Then it happened that dark dank Thursday night at the arse end of October 1982. Bounce and myself were walking home from football training when we spotted Gruber, all alone, engrossed in a game of the arcade classic Hunchback in one of the local chip shops. On meeting up with Philip da Block at the corner of the next street, it was the consensus of popular opinion that we should and I quote from Philip“ Pop back and kick his arse!”13

We secreted our holdalls, which contained our football kits, behind a handily placed garden wall and headed back in the direction of the chip shop. I was volunteered for a quick reconnoitre, so past the shop window I causally ambled trying hard to not attract the attention of the moustachioed, second-generation, old Italian woman who owned the place.14

The mission was a great success as not only was Gruber still there, but he was still completely on his own in the shop, public side of the shoulder high heated windowed counter, utilised for the display of all things deep fried.15

We burst in through the shop door, Gruber sensing things did not bode well for him, span round on his heels, just in time to witness Philips well aimed California L Puma training shoe heading at great speed for his nether regions.16

Gruber’s face drained of all colour, then as he lay on the floor in sheer testicular agony, he actually turned bright purple. That was when I decided that enough was enough and followed the only course of sensible action. That being I pissed off home and went and hid in my bedroom.17

The next day at school was a nightmare, as Gruber and his minions looked to reap retribution as I was chased by a baying mob of his colleagues across the sports field.18

At last finding sanctuary as I lay skulking in the dense foliage of the disused railway line which ran parallel to its boundary fence.19

We all hated Gruber because he was a prick. I on the other hand hated him for two reasons; firstly he was undeniably a total prick and secondly he was undoubtedly a sibling fiddling, cloths peg selling, and driveway tarring Pikey!20

As you may have ascertained I don’t like Pikeys. 21