Dogging It

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Hey, isn't that The Gimp?

Said my mate Daz, pointing over at a red-haired bloke pushing a pram.

What? No, didn't The Gimp die years ago? I think he ejaculated himself to death or something?

I couldn't help but snigger.

However, as the guy approached the bench in the park where we sat with our coffees and children, it became apparent that it really was The Gimp.

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When we were younger there were four of us that had hung about together. We were inseparable, a proper gang, simultaneously navigating the badlands of Glasgow and puberty.

I haven't seen him for years.

I mused as if thumbing absentmindedly at my foreskin.

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I thought back to our youth. We were a cool group us four, each of us blessed with a different superpower.

I of course had my spectacular, rapier-like wit.

Daz excelled at everything physical.

The Gimp had an uncanny ability to spontaneously premature ejaculate.

And Webby... Well, we do not speak of him.

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Damn man, he's seen us.

I said with some consternation.

The Gimp had changed as he got older. Ever more desperate to impress. Eventually, be had moved away to find people who knew nothing of his gimpish ways.

But now he was back.

Look who it is!

He crowed.

Fucking hell, has time stood still for you two? Imagine bumping into the pair of you at the same time. It's like nothing has changed!

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I nodded. Daz did the same.

How you doing G-Dawg? It has been a long time.

Said Daz.

Oh, I'm good. Fucking better than good. I'm fucking awesome actually. Got my own business. Money pishing in faster than I can spend it!

Exclaimed The Gimp with gusto

Inwardly I sighed. Looks like he hadn't changed. Not even fatherhood looks to have dented his must be better than you'ness.

That's cool, so, you look to be a dad now?

I pointed at the pram which had a twirly haired troll child in it.

The Gimp grinned proudly.

Yeah, just fucking knocked out another child, number two. I'm the fucking baby machine.

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I and Daz laughed good naturedly.

I'm on number three mate, so I baggy the title of baby machine.

Daz smiled as he said this and poked The Gimp playfully in the ribs.

The Gimp frowned, as if a hairless cat had leapt into his lap for a cuddle.

Yeah, well. I just bought a big fancy fucking house up the back of the Mearns. Six fucking bedrooms. How's that!

The Gimp rocked back on his heels as if his own awesomeness had just slapped him in the face with a slice of prime penis.

I sighed. I was tiring of this twoddle.

Hey, do you remember that time we saw the two dogs shagging each other on the waste ground near Daz's and you had to go home because you came in your pants?

I asked him brightly.

Daz snorted with laughter.

The Gimp stiffened.

Fuck sake man, that was thirty years ago?!

I nodded.

Aye. Good times.

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