“Oi, you! YOU! Yes, you!”

I looked over my shoulder to see what belligerent wanker was jerking me off this time.

“Yeah, that’s it! Look at me! Y’see me? Yeah, that’s right…” The wanker smirked.

“Hai, what’s up mate?” I asked as nicely as I could muster.

“Oi, you! YOU! Yes, you!” I could tell we were stuck in some kind of recursive loop of asininity…

“Yes, this is me, known to you as ‘you.’ What can I do you for?”

“Yeah, that’s it. Oi was wondrin’ if you’d mind gettin’ outta me fuckin’ trap, eh? You mind?”

I looked around the Liverpool McDonald’s, wondering if we were attracting a crowd.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry to trouble you, sir,” I told him with the utmost composure, “I just came to get a fish filet or whatever it is they call it before my lunch break—”

“—OI! I don’t think I asked you a god damn thing!”

“Well, you did though—”

“—Oi! Oi! Shut it! Shut it!”

After that my memory gets hazy and all I remember is waking up in his arms.