thick as thieves, said Collins.
What did you call me? asked Holborn.
I said we we're thick as, said Collins.
Just as I thought, interjected Holborn.
In the hands of Holborn were a cornucopia of dirty pictures.
He had been busy all day. Holborn to earn his bread took dirty
pictures of bored housewives in a myriad of different poses.
He took these pictures mainly when the wife's husband was out
of the house. Though sometimes he was known to flash the bulb
with the wife's husband sitting behind him.
Collins was a thief. He couldn't help himself. The judge that
sent him to prison said that he had sticky fingers. It wasn't
the fingers that were the problem. It was his eyes. His eyes
were bigger than his pockets. Only an hour before this Collins
had been busy.
Out of the darkness tiptoed Collins. He dropped to his knees
and crawled under the splintered light of the moon that
entered through the window and illuminated the wall opposite.
Once he had cleared the light he stood back up and sauntered
into the darkness.
Listen I'm not thick, said Holborn.
No not thick like that, said Collins. Do you want a gin?
Holborn had a proclivity for gin. He couldn't say no to gin
even though gin left him melancholy.
Of course I'll have a gin, said Holborn.
He held up a picture of a lovely dear with her hairy arse in
the air. Holborn was proud of the lighting.
A lovely arse, exclaimed Collins.
Though Collins would not know a Mapplethrope from an Arbus, he
knew a bull whip up the anus and the difference between a man
and woman. Once Holborn had talked of Nadar but that was a
long long time ago.
Collins returned with two gins.
I saw a lovely arse tonight too, said Collins sparking two
When Collins went on a job he took his brotherinlaw with him.
His brotherinlaw was a dolt. Had he not married Collins'
Collins knew where he was going. He had done his homework. He
was omnipotent when it came to creaking wood. It always
rained. The moors were verdant, the trees bloomed and the
houses were begrimed because it rained everyday. The latch
came away from the wood. Collins' orbs fulgurated when he saw
the latch come away from the wood.
I told you so, quipped Collins extremely proud of himself.
You did! You did! Echoed the brotherinlaw.
The bugger's are tightfisted I told you, expectorated Collins.
You did! You did! Echoed the brotherinlaw.
I did tell you! Uttered Collins.
I know you did, said the brotherinlaw.
You did, said Collins.
You did, reiterated the brotherinlaw.
Are you pissed? Asked Collins
No, denied the brotherinlaw.
So why are you confusing me? Asked Collins.
Keep it down, whispered the brotherinlaw.
Keep it up, said Collins pointing to the window.
The brotherinlaw held the window open for Collins. Into the
darkness climbed Collins. His arse just about squeezed
through. The brotherinlaw followed Collins' procedure
meticulously making sure not to yaw from the path. Once inside
the brotherinlaw closed the window. He placed the latch back.
Silence now, whispered Collins
Silence is the order, said the brotherinlaw.
Follow me, said Collins.
I bet she didn't have this, said Holborn holding up a
She bloody did! bellowed Collins.
Holborn left the picture on the table and went to the bar.
Collins could not take his eyes off the picture. The lady in
the picture was doing funny things with a candle like the doxy
in Hogarth's Rake Progress.
They found themselves in a commodious kitchen. Both being in
so close to the food opened the freezer and had a fine pandial
orgy. The brotherinlaw stuck with the chocolate, the
strawberries and Chinese. Collins opened the milk, washed it
down with a bottle of red, washed this down with a bottle of
fruit drink and swilled out his mouth with cream and
She's lovely she is, she Holborn.
She's a diamond, said Collins.
Collins led the way and the brotherinlaw followed. Into the
master bedroom they surreptitiously slipped.
Show me some more, demanded Collins.
Holborn laid a pile of photographs of the lady before Collins.
She was a rich type, said Collins. Extremely posh.
Yes, said Holborn. Out of your league.
Of course! Bellowed Collins proud as punch, swigging down his
gin in much risibility.
Upon an ornate bed two sleepers farted, excreted saliva and
snorted. Collins knowing that they were under the influence of
booze and sleeping pills brazenly held up the silk sheets.
With a dainty tip the brotherinlaw ran his fingers over the
silk panties. She was petite little fox.
Shall I tickle his rump for him? Asked Collins
Yes, said the brotherinlaw.
Collins slipped a hand down the between the sheets. A smile
materialized upon the countenance of the sleeping man. Slowly
the man stirred, turned on his side, and ran his hands over
Collins moved his hand. They hid themselves in the shadows.
The man climbed upon the woman and slowly, sleepily,
unconsciously copulated with her. It was an ephemeral