10/22-britbong-cryptid-hunters

>write of a britbong stabbing nessie to death with those sharpened butter knives

>pip pip cheerio
>goin' stir-crazy spending all your time in yer flat, m8
>but every time you want to pop off for a pint, that slag Nessie's tryin' to bum three quid-fifty offa ya
>sod off you great big wet bint, I ain't givin ya no three pounds and 50p
>pop off down to the Tesco
>go to buy a kitchen knife
>show the dame at the register my ID and NHS card
>she drags me inna manager's office
>he sits me down an' makes me watch a 4 hour safety video on knives
>this is cuttin into me pub time m8
>manager's an old tosser and makes me watch the whole thing
>pay for knife
>it's time at the bar
>no worries, i'll take care of it on the morrow
>sod off home and sleep
>wake up the next morning around 11 bong
>have a cuppa
>watch some telly
>sharpen knife on a rock from me back garden
>evening
>head out to the pub
>walking past the water
>there's that wet cunt again, tryin ta bum money off me
>jump offa dock and stab her in the neck
>that'll teach ya you giant fish
>suddenly blues and twos
>the rozzers!
>run off down the road
>they're chasing in diesel Astras
>outrunning them
>hide in someone's back garden
>rozzers jump the fence
>"Oi mate, you're nicked!"
>end up with a bollocks barrister
>5 years hard time for killing Nessie
>75 years without parole for having the knife
>prison only serves room temperature tea and cold Bovril
>off yourself at the first opportunity