![]() It was already beginning I was having trouble making my eyes focus. “No,” I ventured, squinting down the length of the shop. The evil men who did this would only rebuild their totems. I raised my hand to smash them, but took pause with my fist in the air. Before me stood a giant display of The Wheelman boxes and a pyramid of shit Wii peripherals. I was not drunk enough, perhaps could never have been drunk enough for what happened next. With the decisive, leisurely gait of a grown man I crossed the road and entered the shop. ![]() Soon I felt my poison beverage beginning its work, signalling it was time for me to begin mine. The high street game retailer is a petri dish of oily emotions it is a time capsule containing nothing but the engorged, battle-scarred penis of a cossack. I knew there was to be no pleasure in the black transaction that would take place. I stood there in the street, hip flask in hand, alternately gulping mouthfuls of tender air and grain alcohol. ![]()
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