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there’s a silver lining. The Van Rapists are still on the loose. I’m going to look for them. Not yet, but soon. I’m going to take the cleaver. Been itching to try it out. I wonder if it’s brought down hard enough on a limb whether it will sever completely or just in half. Depends how much force is applied, I suppose. There are some things I remember from school science class. Also, Dan Wells’s mother, in conjunction with the police, has put up a £20,000 reward for information into the circumstances of his death (i.e. who cut his cock off). No one has come forward thus far but this is a trifle worrying. Not a full cause for concern yet but it has definitely put me back in the woods. AJ wanted to go to The Basement for lunch, which is a student hang-out with a sticky floor, tub-thumping house music and where they serve smoothies, tuna melts and syphillis. I suggested The Roast House – an independent coffee shop in Periwinkle Lane, more befitting to my sensitive tastes. They play soft jazz, have comfy seat cushions and, if you can handle the constant gnashing of dentures on stale fruit cake, it’s a nice place to just sit and watch the world. They don’t have fancy barista machines so there isn’t the incessant clanking or pissing steam that you get in the chains. It was a nice day so we sat and had a coffee then grabbed some sausage and caramelised onion ‘sangers’, and took them over to the churchyard. I told him about the tramp
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C.J. Skuse (Sweetpea (Sweetpea, #1))