Bubblegum Smoothie by Ryan Casey Read Free Book Online Page A

tell how tall he was while he was sitting down, but it was hard to ignore his weight. His left manboob, tucked behind his dirty blue polo shirt, was at least as big as my entire ass put together. It was probably bigger than both Martha’s tits too.
    But I didn’t tell her that.
    “Hello?” I said. This fat bald-headed guy concentrated hard on his new pile of coins. I found it impossible to believe that this guy would ever want to buy a specialist knife from a dodgy arms dealer. Shit, I questioned whether he’d even have one hundred quid to spare, let alone £1,500. Sure, he had plenty of pound coins, but if he had enough money he’d buy himself a bloody Jenga set and stay at home.
    I cleared my throat again. Needed a lozenge, realised I was going to have to wait. “Hello?”
    This time, the guy stopped concentrating. His dark brown eyes poked past the coins and looked right at me, like a camera refocusing. He was breathing heavily, and he absolutely reeked of sweat and ass.
    I tried to hold the best smile I could without passing out from the anal fumes. “Can I buy you a drink?”
    He narrowed his bloodshot eyes. Looked at me, then at Martha, then at me again.
    “No drink,” he said.
    I looked at Martha. She raised her thinly trimmed eyebrows.
    “No drink it is then,” I said. “You mind if we sit here?”
    He observed us for another couple of seconds. Observed us, his baggy eyes twitching with every move.
    Then, he nodded, just the once. “Sit.”
    “Thank you,” I said. I perched myself down on a stool and Martha did the same. The smell of this overweight giant didn’t get any more bearable when I sat. I thought about whether I’d ever smelled anything quite so bad in my life, and then I remembered the time I had the shits in Fuerteventura in my teens. Usually, the smell of your own shit is bearable. Which sums up just how disgusting that smell actually was.
    “Stacking coins?” Martha asked. She forced herself into a higher voice, which was actually slightly demonic. She pointed a flirty grin at Fatso.
    Fatso smiled back at her. Congealed drool and age-old chocolate stuck to the corners of his mouth. “Want a go?”
    Martha shook her head. “I’m fine, darling. You stack away to your heart’s content.”
    Fatso chuckled at this. His chubby cheeks flushed. Jesus, had he actually fallen for Martha?
    Sorry. I shouldn’t think like that. Martha isn’t Mart in a dress. Martha isn’t Mart in a dress…
    “What’s your name anyway?” I asked, breaking through the overwhelmingly uncomfortable sexual tension, all of it coming from the beast of a bloke at the opposite side of the table. “I’m Blake. This is Martha—”
    “Gus,” he said.
    “Gus!” I replied. Not sure why I sounded so surprised. Just seemed such a fitting name for a bloke like him. No offence to any Guses, or anything like that. “Well it’s a pleasure to meet you, Gus. Do you come here often? Swear I haven’t seen you in here before.”
    Gus didn’t say a word to me. He was too busy drooling at Martha, who was applying an overcoat of thick red lipstick.
    I thought about how this guy could possibly have wanted to buy any knives. I thought about the best way to ask him. The best way to casually slip it into conversation.
    “So… what else do you like to do besides sitting in the pub—”
    “Gus like food!” He looked right at me. Opened his mouth wide, revealing his rotting teeth. Wow. Martha could keep this heartthrob all to herself.
    “Food, ey? You know, I love food too. Bacon… sausages… I run a smoothie stall, you know? Groovy Smoothie? Ever seen it? In the town centre near Friargate.”
    Gus’s eyes twitched as he tried to comprehend what I was saying, like a dated computer struggling to take in modern information.
    “No? Doesn’t matter. Anyway, reason I’m here is…” I added my approach up in my head. Hoped to fuck it was going to work. “I was wondering if you knew anyone that… that, like, gives away