King Charles.

He picked me up on the road cos I was hitching. He was eating a cone, licking the syrup, trying not to swerve. After the pleasantries, he hold me the story. He saw the dog on Done Deal. A beautiful King Charles for cheap money in Limerick. It took four hours and a lot of diesel to get there. A blonde battered woman opened the door. Cigarette and cheap make-up. The house was a kip. Smelled like gin and misery. The dog was upstairs.She went to get it. It wasn’t a King Charles. It was a “…Big four shtone lump of shite.”

He said o her – I hope that’s not the dog? –
She said: “Yeah what’s the problem?”
An argument ensued. Threats were made. He was invited to leave immediately. He slammed the door. The engine growled as it left the driveway.
At home. He posted a warning on Done Deal. “Don’t buy this dog. It’s a scam.”
The blonde obviously saw it. Called him up and threatened to burn his house. Who did he think he was? He hung up but she called back numerous times in the early hours – depriving him of sleep. It went on like that for a few nights. Three/four/five in the morning. Eventually he text her and told her if she called him again he’d “…blow her fuckin head off…”
She calmed down after that.
He changed gear, licked some more ice cream. Took a bite of the flake and said   :“I wasn’t actually goin to blow her head off…. but at least it stopped the bitch callin….you know? Where are you from yourself?”

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