Les Norton And The Case Of The Talking Pie Crust - Plot & Excerpts
His head was sore and he could feel the stitches where they tightened on his scalp and above his eye. When he swung his legs out of bed and stood up, Les could also feel where every kick and punch had landed on his body. There would be no running or hitting the heavy bag today. He went to the bathroom, removed the bandana and stared at himself in the mirror. If his head looked rough before, now he could add another, much bigger black eye and more bruising. And I’ve got to meet Topaz and Barbara later, mused Les. That’s going to be nice. The only small consolation was, when he ran a finger round inside his mouth, the chips in his teeth weren’t as bad as he first thought. ‘So how are you going there, tough guy?’ Les asked the reflection smiling mirthlessly back at him in the mirror. ‘What did you say? You got beaten up by three old sheilas with broomsticks and two drag queens. Shit! You are a tough guy, aren’t you. You fuckin moron.’ After finishing in the bathroom, Les walked out to the kitchen.
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