Forever After - By David Jester Page 0,6

where Michael took souls and left empty corpses; Chip took teeth and left money. It was his job to take every spent tooth from every child throughout their adolescence, but it was only the first tooth that mattered, the rest were just complimentary. The teeth were taken back to the Collector Headquarters where they were ground, analysed, and destroyed, but not before the organisation had collected and filled the child’s DNA to maintain a database that the government would kill for, but one they didn’t even know existed.

“I told you to stop bringing those back here,” Michael said. “It’s fucking disgusting; can’t you drop them off at the office?”

Chip didn’t seem to be in the mood for trudging the two miles to his workplace, he barely looked capable of making it to the toilet without tripping over his own stupidity. “I’ll do it tomorrow,” he said indefinitely. He took a long toke from the joint as if to emphasis his lack of mobility and then he offered the burning stick to his friend.

Michael watched the ember spill smoke into the dim room. The simpleton face of his grinning flatmate appeared expectantly through the hazy, ragged lines. He shrugged, conceded, and took the joint, settling back to watch television as an entire country cheered the antics of a dancing dog, knowing that he was just a few tokes away from understanding their enjoyment.

“How was your pick up?” Chip said half-heartedly, his smiling eyes on the television, enjoying the performance as much as the squealing audience.

“Demented.”

“Drugs?” Chip wondered, the scent of degeneracy piquing his interest.

Michael turned distastefully away from the television; there wasn’t enough dope in the world. “Adultery,” he explained. “He tried to kill his wife for having an affair, ended up killing himself.”

Chip laughed, a little too enthusiastically. He slammed his fists into the side of the couch. “Classic,” he said, his voice strained with hysterics. “You have a great fucking life mate.”

Michael twisted his face and leant back, sinking into the chair as he tried to let the dope take over him before the memories and the regrets of when he really did have a great life swarmed over him.

3

“I’m telling you--” any story Michael told, anything he had to say, always took centre stage. That night he had been joined by his closest friends Del and Adam, one either side of him at the bar, both, as always, enthralled by what he had to say. They hovered around him like a revered deity. “--If you ever get the chance to fuck twins, you’ve gotta go for it.”

They smiled simultaneously as Michael ducked forward to take a thirsty swig from his pint of beer. The pub wasn’t full that night, but there were enough people, enough conversation, to fade out the pop music that blasted an offensive drawl from a jukebox.

In one corner of the pub a group of men hovered around a pool table, drinking, joking, laughing and shoving each other in masculine acts of aggression between shots. In another corner a group of a dozen women, from their late teens to their early forties, celebrated the start of a boisterous hen party -- their symphonic voices halting only to lap up cheap cocktails.

Between the two largest collectives, amongst the drabs of men on the pull, women looking seductive and teenagers looking nervous, were Michael and his friends.

“You really did it Mickey?” Del wondered.

Michael shrugged impassively, “Would I lie?”

Adam grunted and shook his head, a sign of upmost respect and jealously. “And both of them think you’re only dating them?” he wanted to know.

Michael nodded proudly, winking at his friend over the rim of his glass as he took another long drink.

“Nice one Mickey,” he slapped his friend lightly on the shoulder. “Which one was better in the sack?”

Michael shrugged and then pondered the question. He put his half-full glass down on the bar and ran a thoughtful finger across the rim, wiping a fleck of froth. “Hard to say,” he said. “They both had subtle differences. Susie was a little hairier downstairs, a little too hairy for my liking. That shit was like Velcro when we finished.”

Del and Adam recoiled in synchronisation. Michael grinned and called to the bartender, holding up three fingers and pointing to his pint.

“She had a better body though,” he continued. “A little slimmer around the waist, tighter arse.” He drew her form in the air with his palms. “Nicky had bigger tits, but Susie also had the energy and flexibility. I’m telling