Bullet Gets A Job

 Posted by on May 16, 2008  Add comments
May 162008
 

I know that look.

What, I demand.‚  What, Bullet?‚  What?‚  Spit it out.‚  I won’t bite you.

Bullet shuffles his feet and looks down at the floor.‚  I got a job.

You got a job?‚  Great!

Bullet adds nothing so we both stand there for many silent minutes as I grimace questions at him.‚  He frowns back at me till I can stand it no more.

What’s the job?

Bullet looks past my shoulder towards the door.‚  He’s very fit and he could probably jump over me if he tried, but this is a worrying sign.‚  My eyes get squinty and my fingers twitch.

What’s the fuckin job, Bullet?

He mutters something that sounds like Gnnoglpphhh.

What the fuck is Gnnoglpphhh?

Gnnoglpphhh open, Bullet mumbles.‚  A dare.

You’ve lost me, Bullet.‚  You’re doing a job for a dare?

Bullet looks defeated.‚  I got a job at the Irish Golf open, in Adare.

I feel like Michael Corleone.

Golf? I say.‚  Golf???‚  Fuckin golf??‚  How could you do this to me, Fredo – I mean Bullet?

Anyone who’s been visiting here for a while will know how I feel about golf.‚  I think golf is the anti-sport.‚  I think God invented lightning specially for golfers.‚  I have organised marches on the homes of known golfers in my neighbourhood.‚  Get out of our town.

Golf is the most pointless bullshit activity ever conceived of and it’s full of gobshites with very, very bad dress sense.‚  Who the fuck wears one glove?‚  Who goes around in bile-green plus-fours?‚  Who gives a fuck if your little fuckin knobbly ball goes into the fuckin lake?

Golf is a game for people who want to become old and I fuckin hate it. I’ve always hated it and now here’s my beloved son, Bullet, telling me he has a job at the Irish Open.‚  But then, I begin to spot an angle.

Bullet, I say, placing a fatherly arm around his shoulder.‚  This job would perhaps involve serving food and drink?

Bullet nods.

To famous golfers?

He nods again.

Bullet, I say, you have my blessing to do this thing, but maybe you would do your aged parent one small favour. Out of respect.

Bullet shrugs, Sure.‚  Why not?

I hand him a small vial marked only with a skull and crossbones.

Take this, I intone, and use it wisely.

Bullet secretes the vial inside his jacket and nods silently.‚  He understands.

This will be his first real job.

  26 Responses to “Bullet Gets A Job”

Comments (26)
  1.  

    *Sniff* I’m moved to tears…the passing of a torch (or poisoned chalice even). A proud day for you both.

  2.  

    And I thought I was the only one! :) Golf and basketball… sheer evil! Go Bullet!

  3.  

    next stop…The Ashes!
    Well done Bock,its a proud moment for us all.

  4.  

    sorry ,typo on my name in the last post,so i’ll say it again…

    next stop…The Ashes!
    Well done Bock,its a proud moment for us all.

  5.  

    With unfettered access to the course, bullet could booby-trap the bunkers too. Don’t let him near the male golfer’s wives though for they are starved of love and will eat him alive faster than you can say “I’ll have a dirty martini, please.”

  6.  

    See! See! We do agree on some things! Golf is like soccer! A bunch of faggots running around a pitch that could better be used for a baseball field or a rifle range.
    I read a history of golf once that stated that the Scots put their village idiots in the town ‘course’ to knock around a small ball so as to not have to look over them all day long. Now we have Golf.

  7.  

    LOL!! yeah Golfers are gun fucking targets! the shower of bastards, I hate it too…except on the Nintendo Wii…. AND EVEN THEN! fuck…go bullet, go poised the fuckers!

    …yeah like footballers, except older, and unfit and then they argue that all that fucking walking will keep you fit! FUCK SAKE! YE HAVE CADDIES!!!! THEY DO UR HEAVY LIFTING AND BENDING OVER AND FONDELING YOUR BALLS LOVEINGLY! …fuckin sport they say, the only sport involved in golf is slagging it!

    **lette runs off to have a hot shower! I feel dirty even thinking about it!

  8.  

    the passing of the torch in the business, well done, sugar

    …but you know what? i like golf, i play golf and i have my own golf clubs! i don’t wear funny clothes and i carry my own clubs. i think you protest too much, darling, come join me in a round, i always bring a flask! ;-)
    xoxox

  9.  

    Wow and after Adare what? Will ye have time to poison half the team before Saturday?

  10.  

    Dev: I had to start him soon. It’s a lifetime learning this craft of ours.

    Deborah: you’re not alone.

    OD: Thank you. I’m proud of the young fella.

    ProblemSam: I’ll have to trust him, the little devil.

    Brian: At last, something we’re at one on, though I don’t know if I’d prefer to see a bunch of dribbling survivalists replacing golf.

    Lette: Don’t hold back.

    Savannah: Golfism? Me? Never!

    Dan Dare: He has a whole week to get at those Toulousains (or at least, the ones who can still walk).

  11.  

    Well actually I meant the Munster guys who golf like, let’s see, O’ Gara and O’ Connell.

  12.  

    They only do it because they’re forced to by evil golf-pushing blazer types.

  13.  

    Super-D4-Ladyboys halftime Pina Coladas could yet be Bullets next task, Dan. Every one of them a committed golf nut, unlike our crew.

    A sideline pass for Thomond Park can be arranged.

  14.  

    A confession…

    I was only small, ok? And was in the company of relations, right? But I, eh, I eh… played golf at Adare… the Dunravens were still on the premises so it was a different kind of set up to what they have now.

    And as I’m at it I’d like another matter ‘taken into consideration’ as they say… I bunked over the hedge and played on the links in Ballybunion when I was about eight years old…

  15.  

    Well, Conan, since you came clean, and since it was a long time ago, we’ll have to let it pass this time.

  16.  

    Bock, do we have any confirmed kills?

  17.  

    Dan: He’s a fully-qualified teenager, who plays a mean electric guitar, has a detailed knowledge of all heavy metal bands, and a good line in filthy jokes. He can spin a rugby ball with the best, he’s an experienced oarsman and he can ski. He also has a sardonic sense of humour.

    He’s well read, highly literate and very fit. He doesn’t drink except when offered a beer, and he doesn’t smoke, but his bedroom is a pig-sty and he’d eat any old processed shit if he was allowed to.

    Like all teenaged boys, he instantly forgets everything he’s told to do. He has basic carpentry skills and he knows how to make beer. His moderate knowledge of physics extends to Boyle’s Law and the parallelogram of forces. He can read a gas meter.

  18.  

    I think he said kills, not skills or are you just outlining why he got the job?

  19.  

    My blindness. Thanks Dan. Sorry Dan.

    Only one kill: an elderly foreign beggar. But he’s a young fella and I’m sure he’ll improve. I’m hoping he’ll manage one or two in Cardiff.

  20.  

    oops, tried to post earlier but it dissappeared?

    will try again…hopefully, I’m not on the banned list…. :/ :)

    my post was something about Caddy Shack, and a good use for a golf course would be for a nice gallop on a horse…

    my teen still has yet to get a job! :/

  21.  

    I could easily have deleted it by accident while getting rid of idiot spam comments. If so, sorry. Shit happens when spammers attack.

    Of course you’re not on the banned list. Why would a valued contributor be on a banned list? That’s for nazis and fools.

  22.  

    You have some decent raw material to work with there.

  23.  

    Yes indeed. Once I bring him back safe from Cardiff we can begin the basic training.

  24.  

    Basic error though in not calling him ‘poison’ or is the name ‘bullet’ part of a dastardly plan to put the authorities off the scent? I think we need to be informed.

  25.  

    I suppose I should have called him Weapon.

  26.  

    Oh I enjoyed reading this post and comments. golf gives me a rash. People seem to get obsessed with it to such a degree that i get the fork-scraping-pot feeling every time i hear about it. Plastic social climbers. That’s all i can say on it, as i feel an itch coming on.

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