021 - malcolm is a maudlin drunk.

[fuckitybye]

[Audio. Malcolm's Glaswegian accent has thickened considerably.]

What's the fucking point, yeah? Bein' a useless cunt out here in the fucking ... arse-end of the fucking universe, not a fucking friend in sight and your family gone and fucking ... superheroes and things'll rip your fucking throat out and ... this is supposed to help?

Fuck this cack-brained shit in the ear with a fucking screwdriver.

[Click. Audio off. He'll respond to anyone who feels like hassling him via journal, but some time later, anyone wandering up on deck will find Malcolm standing at the railing staring morosely off into the distance. In his left hand he clutches his useless Blackberry and this photograph. Feel free to come spam Malcolm and, if you dare, ask him about the photograph. Also, sorry for spamming with Malc posts this morning. Done now.]

Comments

[inhumandog.livejournal.com]

No. It doesn't help. No point in trying.

Nothing helps.

[fuckitybye]

It's like a fucking ... river of shit, yeah? No, no, not a river, like a fucking Lake District flood.

[inhumandog.livejournal.com]

And we're all drowning in it.

[fuckitybye]

[Totally not really listening to Iago.]

There was a fucking time ... I could've built a fucking life raft of shit. I could ride that fucking shit-river all the way to the fucking OCEAN and brandish my SHIT-PADDLE in the faces of those CUNTS AND TOSSERS who pushed me in ...

Fuck.

[inhumandog.livejournal.com]

[Being drunk means talking at, not talking with.]

And that's not going to get anyone anywhere. It's only going to make the world worse. Only going to make your life worse.

[fuckitybye]

[Exactly.]

Can't get any fucking worse. I was the KING. I had ALL OF WHITEHALL BY THE FUCKING BALLS and now I'm fucking ROTTING HERE.

I WILL NOT FUCKING STAND FOR THIS.

[inhumandog.livejournal.com]

Fuck your royalty.

You're shit now.

[fuckitybye]

Yeah, well, so are you, cocknozzle. We're all fucking shit together.