WANTED
EFFRIES
FOR MURDER
FOR MURDER
So here I am at Buckingham Palace. It’s gotta be some kind of cock-up. Street kids from Totty don’t get to go to the palace to meet the Queen. Especially when they’re wanted for murder. And then I thought it must be a trap. I wouldn’t put it past them. The cops must know there’s no way a kid from the N17s is turning down an invite from th
So here I am at Buckingham Palace. It’s gotta be some kind of cock-up. Street kids from Totty don’t get to go to the palace to meet the Queen. Especially when they’re wanted for murder. And then I thought it must be a trap. I wouldn’t put it past them. The cops must know there’s no way a kid from the N17s is turning down an invite from the Queen. Even if it means going jail. I’ll tell her, tell her straight, that I had nothing to do with the shooting of that copper in east London. I ain’t going HMP for a murder I didn’t commit. Not with the Queen by my side.
FOR MURDER
FOR MURDER
FOR MURDER
THIS IS THE STORY OF A REALLY HORRIBLE MURDER THAT I SWEAR I DIDN'T DO. I'LL LEAVE THE HORRIBLE DETAILS IN THE BOOK. ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW IS THAT I'M INNOCENT. I NEVER DONE NOTHING. BUT BECAUSE A CONVICTED HOMICIDAL MANIAC SAYS IT WAS ME AND NOT HIM, SOMEONE'S TRYING TO RUN ME DOWN EYE FOR AN EYE. I'M THE KING OF NIGHT-TIME RADIO. I CAN'T
THIS IS THE STORY OF A REALLY HORRIBLE MURDER THAT I SWEAR I DIDN'T DO. I'LL LEAVE THE HORRIBLE DETAILS IN THE BOOK. ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW IS THAT I'M INNOCENT. I NEVER DONE NOTHING. BUT BECAUSE A CONVICTED HOMICIDAL MANIAC SAYS IT WAS ME AND NOT HIM, SOMEONE'S TRYING TO RUN ME DOWN EYE FOR AN EYE. I'M THE KING OF NIGHT-TIME RADIO. I CAN'T BE HAVING THIS. I'M DEADMEAT IF I CAN'T PROVE IT BY THE TIME YOU READ THIS.
EFFRIES
FOR MURDER
EFFRIES
So here I am on the Trans Euro Express.
By the time we get to Copenhagen the Swedes can barely stand so they’re lying on the floor. One of them has got a wet patch on his jeans and the other one has thrown up over himself. A couple of border cops demand our passports. The drunken Swedes start screaming FASCIST PIGS! and giving the cops the
So here I am on the Trans Euro Express.
By the time we get to Copenhagen the Swedes can barely stand so they’re lying on the floor. One of them has got a wet patch on his jeans and the other one has thrown up over himself. A couple of border cops demand our passports. The drunken Swedes start screaming FASCIST PIGS! and giving the cops the finger so they tell us to strip. That's when I remember what I'm smuggling. I shit myself. I pull my trousers down and, stark bollock naked from the waist down, I squat right there in the centre of the compartment and do a dump. A proper stinker. I’ve never told you lot this before, have I?
EFFRIES the new noir-moir by Radio Dotun
It's BAD. It's MAD. I couldn't put it down.