Why hasn’t bangbang forgotten Marrakech?...
The scurrilous duo spent some time in Marrakech after spotting how much money could be made in the dope business. Of course, SheDon’t and Therapist weren’t happy trading like everyone else, theirs was the nastiest dope on the market, cut with boot polish and floor scrapings (ever seen a floor in Marrakech? These two have no scruples!). Disguised in burkas and not stopping in one place for too long (they had learnt not to be too cocky after Hamburg), they set up an export business shipping out their poisonous wares. Life was good for a while, the money came rolling in and despite the death and imprisonment of a couple of their ‘mules’, business was booming. Of course, eventually word spread about the two crazy women who were peddling dodgy gear, and these words eventually wended their way to the ears of bangbang. He knew it was the antiheroes straight away, the limited descriptions fitted and they were certainly crazy and immoral enough. He boarded the very next plane.
But SheDon’tWriteNoMore and Therapist Evil knew bangbang was on their tail by now, and had bribed and threatened staff at all points of entry into the city. Once they knew he was on his way they set their devious plan in motion.
After a few days asking around and discrete investigation, bangbang tracked the lunatic pair to an abandoned warehouse. He crept through the disused building to the office, bursting through the door in time to see the hem of a burka disappearing out of the window. But they’d left him a present. . . Police stormed the building even as he cursed and tried to climb out after them. A search of his rooms at the hotel revealed a large stash of their worst merchandise, planted by one of their informants. After a full cavity search and a few days in Boulemharez prison, bangbang’s release was secured by an old contact of his.
This meant war…
About Me
- The Antiheroes
- We tried to be good, honest. We started out with the best of intentions. However, things just didn't work out according to plan. Then, while on a drinking binge in Calcutta, we were recruited by Quintassential to help spread the word about innersane. Now we have a new purpose in life; we are the antiheroes, and this is our story.
1 comment:
If I didn't know these dames were dangerous before, I did after Marrakech.
Word had reached me that two females were dealing in dope that was more disgusting than a French toilet. There was nothing they wouldn't cut the dope with to make more money. There was so much Harpic in it that the police were arresting anyone who's faced looked flushed.
I got to Marrakech and immediately put my feelers out. After the first woman slapped my face, I put them back in again. Two female drug dealers would stick out like sore thumbs in this part of the world. And when I got hold of them it would be more than their thumbs that would hurt. It was hotter and sweatier than Michael Flattley's jockstrap in a rugby scrum. The flies were a nightmare - I wished I had worn the button up shorts. I struggled on with the sand getting into parts were I didn't know I had parts. I didn't seem to be getting anywhere until I realised what was happening. The strap of my camera had got trapped on a signpost. I freed it up and I was on my way.
It didn't take me long to find my way to the less saloubrious part of the city. A first class hiding hole for a couple of scumbag broads. I'd almost had them in Hamburg and I felt sure I was close now. I entered a smoky bar and asked around before being approached a by a slimy little devil in a fez. He was obviously higher than a giraffe's vasectomy but he had news of two "devil women" who even the local hoods wanted nothing to with. He pointed me to an abandoned warehouse. Unfortunately he only had one arm so I had to guess in which direction to go.
I found it eventually and made my way quietly through to the main office. I could hear female voices as I climbed the stairs, "Yes he is really handsome and charismatic but he won't catch us." one of them said. "He's intelligent and witty too but I hope you're right.", said the other. Then there was a smash of breaking glass from the other side of the door as I burst into the office only to see a piece of black cloth disappear out of the window.
Worse was to come. At that moment a dozen armed policemen rushed into the building and dragged me out. They told me they had found a kilo of hash in my hotel room. I wonder how that had gotten there?! Then they serached me. And I mean searched. I never knew I could sing the lead in Madam Butterfly and I mean the female lead. A couple of days in Boulemharez jail was no walk in the park either. I saw things that I didn't know two men could do. Especially when one was a 25 stone hairball - how did he get his leg round there?
It took a while for my contact to get me out of there and I went straight to the airport. As I got out of the taxi a small baby goat walked past. "Here's looking at you kid." I said as I got out my passport.
Revenge was on my mind and next time I would be ruthless. The gloves were off. It was still far too hot for gloves.
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