This is set in Lancashire England where people speak like on Coronation Street on Telly and swear a lot.  If you don't like the F word don't F-ing read it.

The scene, a grotty former working mens club near Manchester England.

============================================

"Al, you can't hang pedophiles up by their bollocks." I told him.

"Why the fuck not Johnno, why the fuck not?" he replied as he downed his thirteenth pint of John Smiths, in the gloom of our local club.

"Ease up mate your driving," I reminded him, "You want get a black coffee before we goes home."

"I'm fine," he says, "But look mate I got to get me election address stuff done by Wednesday, and I reckon hanging pedophiles up by their bollocks is a vote winner."

"Mate, that's BNP not Lib Dem policy," I told him but he wasn't listening, he was watching Linda Hewes ample bosom as she pulled pints behind the bar of the Bar de Dauville, or Whetherfield (Todmoor Main) Miners and Shunters club as it used to be.

Al ignored me and turned and leered at the barmaid, "Fancy a shag darlin?" he said seductively as he slid over to the bar with all the grace of a drunken ostrich, whatever they are.

"You got fifty quid?" she replied with fluttering eyelashes and I knew I was walking home.

"Nah, only got thirty left," he lied and so instead of enjoying the warmth of Linda's luscious curves and ample bosom and the undoubted comfort of Linda's flat over the Club the dark hand of fate sent us both out into the cold Yorkshire night air when kicking out time came around.

We got nearly a quarter mile before Al had to stop to spew up, at least he got the door open first this time, and as he stood there vomiting up what seemed like gallons of foaming John Smiths ale, pasties pizza and the rest who should turn up in a blaze of blue flashing lights but Tony Mulholland, or PC Mulholland as he was usually known.

"Been drinking Lads?" he asked.

"Yeah, they say you have to drink four litres of water a day," I explained, as Al threw up all over Tony's shoes.

"Right, I'll have to ask you to accompany me to the station." Tony says.

"It's shut, last train goes at quarter to midnight," Al said straight faced.

"We can still accompany him mate," I said almost as drunkenly, "You hum Bass part and I'll."

"Bloody shut up the pair of you," Tony said, "What's all this about Pedo's"

"Wants stringing up by their bollocks," Al said.

"Bollocks," I said.

"Yeah, you're not wrong." Tony said, "You know any?"

"Nope," we said together.

"Well," Tony said and he fished his palm top computer out, "This bastard lives in Otley road," he said and showed this school teachery looking bloke.

"Christ I knows him!" Al says.

"Five year olds." Tony says, "Got off on a technicality," he added, "And this one," he showed us another picture, a scruffy druggie type, "He got a suspended sentence for screwing a ten year old," he let the concept sink in, "Boy!"

"Fuck," said Al as he sobered up really quickly.

"You do want to keep your license I take it?" Tony says as he flashes the breathalyzer at Al.

"Yeah," he says.

"So like you were heard saying in the Pub," Tony offered, "These two hanging by their balls by next Friday, I don't care where, just hanging by their balls."

"But!" I protested.

"Do it!" says Tony, "Or bye bye Mr License."

Al was really sober now, Tony went back to the Ford Focus Panda car where Sergeant Fforbes was screwing Doris Arkwright the ageing peroxide blonde 42E neighbourhood tart in the back seat, and Al quickly started the van and we headed off as fast as we could, taking the short cut across the allotments without opening the gate first!

He dropped me round our gaff first and headed home, my head was banging so I went down te garden and sat on the privvy for a while, watching the clouds fly across the moon through the gap over the door.

I must have fallen asleep because the door opened and the creak of the hinges woke me up, "Fuck!" a bored childish female voice exclaimed, "There's some pillock in here."  It was Sandra from next door, with fifty something bald fat git Clive Andrews from number 10 looking for somewhere warm and out of his missus way to have a fuck. Clive was old enough to be Sandra's grand dad but he was her dad's boss so she kept him sweet if you understand, the dirty old bastard.

"Your all right," I said, "I'm done."

"I'll make it up to you," says Sandra.

"Not till you're sixteen you won't," I told her.

"Daft bugger I'm sixteen last January," she laughed, "So sod off give us some privacy."

I slipped away in the house and up to bed.

I went to work next day, did me two hours and went home, well what do you expect for the money the Council pay, well we was privatised really but it was same as council like, so we did half a dozen pot holes and then sold the Tar to a gang of Paddies for doing a driveway and lent them the truck for the rest of the day, nice little earner.

I had a little kip before we took the truck back to the depot around four and then I stopped off at the Internet Cafe to check me Facebook.

"I owes you one," Sandra said as she came in, all slim and fit like, like one of them women athletes me dad likes watching on telly, not enough tit for me really but. 

"You going to give me one then?" I asked.

"Yes," she said quietly, "If you like."

"Uh," I said and swallowed, "Christ, it would be like screwing my own sister."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because I remember when you was born." I explained.

"No you don't you was only two." she said, as she peered at me with her big brown eyes, sad brown eyes, matching her brown hair, and her yellowed teeth from too many fags.

"Just doing it mind, not going out." I suggested.

"Yes!" she said with a big smile, "Me Mam goes to Bingo tonight and Dad's got Band practice,  so you come round after tea."

"I will," I agreed, "I will!"

I got and checked me emails, Donald Duck 333 at somewhere obscure had sent me a message, those bloody pictures again, Pedo's and a list of what they been up to, I felt sick, "Hung by their Bollocks remember." the message read.

My "Promise," did not go as planned, bloody Sandra had set me up, "Why young John,"  Arthur, Sandra's dad greeted me, "What brings you here?" he asked.

Well I had to lie. 

"He's here to see about joining Wetherfield brass band again," Sandra said.

"Er yes," I said glowering at Sandra.

"Not before time lad, thee always did have a good tone on Tenor Horn, well look sharp I'm late for section practice already, make sure you use a condom our Sandra," he shouted "Clive will be round later."

She gave us an evil look and like a prat I went to bloody Wetherfield  Westgate Temperance Band band practice, one step removed from Sally Army.

"Try this," Arthur said, and he handed me a York Tenor horn "It's like riding bike."

"On fucking cobblestones and then you fall off," Dan Arkwright the Conductor added.

I played a note, "Fucking horrible, you'll do." he said and suddenly it were like being thirteen again and in youth band where the keen young lads played cornet and lead parts if they didn't mind taking Eric Ethelbridge's member up their jacksy, while I was particular that my ass was for shitting through full stop so I played third Tenor Horn, which is the most dreary fucking horrible part ever written for anything.

"What happened to old Eric?" I asked.

"Seven years," Dan explained, "Should have been hung from a lamp post."

"By his bollocks," Arthur added, "Buggered half the learners."

"That's why I never got on," I admitted.

"Well, its playing what matters now," said Dan, "Vera is off at her sisters so you play second tonight if you would."

It wasn't too bad, as torture sessions go, and then we were down the Flying Horse till midnight and it was too late to screw Sandra then.

Except when I went to bed there was this bulge in the bedclothes, "John," she whispered, "I waited."

"Shit, I've had nine pints I'll never get it up." I said but her hands were on my tool and the stirring started and the warmth and strength came flooding in, and.

"Ooh it's lovely and big John!" she simpered, "Just as I imagined," she said as I slid it up her.

I don't remember getting undressed, or getting to the bed, I barely remember slipping my tool up her well used but soaking vagina, but oh wow did I come alive when she started working her well practised cunt muscles on my tool, and of course as soon as I really started banging her the bloody headboard on the bed started banging the wall.

"John, have you got a girl in there?" Mother asked.

"I'll skin the bugger if he's got a boy in there," Father added.

"No, I just had a coughing," I said, "Ah!" as the bedroom door opened.

"Sandra, you should be in bed!" Mother said stupidly.

"She means your own bed," Dad said, "Keep the racket down eh," he asked and he said "Goodnight."

"Goodnight Mt Althwaite, Mrs Althwaite," Sandra said and she grinned at me in the moonlight like the cat what's got the cream.

The bitch had shoved a hole in the jonny, the rubber, Durex, hadn't she, so I shot me load right up her.

"You fucking bitch!" I said when I realised, "You sad fucking bitch!"

"Alan said the only way to get a flat was to get up the duff." she said.

"Next time fucking ask," I said, "I always wanted to try bareback!"

"You're nice," Sandra said, "Not like Mr Andrews, he hurts me."

"Right," I agreed, "He's some kind of Pedo right?"

She nodded, "He said Dad stole some stuff and if I didn't he would get Dad the sack." she said,

"Was it horrible?" I asked.

"Actually," she said, "It was exciting at first, but then he started hurting me."

I had to hold her, feel her little tits against my chest, crush her to me, "Like you're doing," she added

"Sorry," I said.

"John," she said, "Al says you two are going to hang some Pedos up by their bollocks."

"Shit that's supposed to be a secret!" I said.

"Will you do Mr Andrews?" she asked.

"Can I fuck you bareback?" I asked.

"If you'll hang Mr Andrews up by his bollocks," she agreed.

"Get your legs apart then," I said "Cos the sputnik is about to dock!"

"I think you got that wrong you mean a Soyuz," Sandra says as I eased into her again, "We done that in history last Ooohh, week, Oooh John," she says, "That's really nice."

We fucked long and slow and quietly, "I always fancied you," I lied.

"Liar," she said, "But you fancy me now don't you?"

"Yes," I admitted, "Definitely."

=================================================

Tony Mullholland was in the club Friday night, "Right you two," he says as he came across Al and me, "First off Sandra is under age."

"She's sixteen!" I protested.

"For drinking not fucking you pillock!" Al added.

"Yes drinking," he added, "And second there are Pedophiles roaming the streets and lamp posts to hang them from." he flashed a photo, "67 Argyll street, a party, men only, its only half a mile."

"Right," I agreed.

"It's Friday," he reminded us.

"Right," I agreed.

"Rope," he said and handed me a coil of thin nylon rope.

"Right," I agreed.

"So I'll ply the delectable Sandra with fizzy drinks and you two can  do some community service, if you value Al's license." Tony suggested.

"Right," we agreed.

It wasn't even half a mile to Argyll street across the cemetery, Argyll Street was all poncy villas, stockbroker villas for nobs and that, surveyors, mine superintendents that sort of wanker, 67 was like something out of Dallas set back from the road with a big porch thing over the front door, totally out of place, it was the vet's once and then some poncy git from down south had it all done up with antique pine, they stripped from the Methodist Chapel when the turned it into a Mosk and it was filled with tat or "Antiques," most of which came from local junk shop.

We found the party was in full swing, so we shinned up a drain pipe and got on top of this portico or porch thing so we could watch them at it through the upstairs windows through a gap in the curtains, yuck.

Old Councillor Maesborough the Lib Dem was screwing the ass of some kid and then we saw the school teachery one with a lad from St Benedicts in their school uniform.

"What shall we do Johnno," Al asks.

"Fucking emigrate," I suggested, "Tell you what, you jump up and down on the BMW down the street and I'll lasoo the bastards as they come out," I said and blow me if that daft prat Alan didn't do just that and start jumping up and down on the roof of a black BMW 5 series.

All hell broke loose as the alarm went off, doors opened and several guests from the party spilled into the street in various stages of undress.

Al looked shocked as they approached him, "Fucking Gay Pedo's" he shouted and I had a brain wave, as I found a sash window part open and wrenched it open wide so as I could get through.

There was this bloke stark naked with this leather harness on him, poor prat, he had his hands handcuffed behind him and this leather hood on so he couldn't see or hear sod all, "Fucking Pedo!" I said and smacked his jaw with an upper cut and blow me if his little cock didn't twitch and uncurl, he was one of them masso-kists what likes pain.

"Fucking hell!" I exclaimed but seeing his cock all stiff gave me ideas, not them ideas but it was certainly something to tie me rope around.

It felt queer handling another blokes cock, fucking thing went all hard, yuck, but I got the rope around it behind his bollocks and pulled it tight, Christ did he fucking wail, that's when I had another brain wave, see there was this sort of little flag pole thing on the porch, so I dragged matey across by the rope around his bollocks and had him step out of window over the low sill and I tied his cock to the flag pole with the rope.

It was funny, no one saw us see, they was all looking at Al and the BMW where he had jumped on the sunroof and it gave way, poor sod was jammed half way in and half way out, his legs inside and his top half out, "Fuck off you fucking Pedo's" he said, as this group of half naked blokes in leather pants tried to get him out of the car before the coppers turned up.

In left the Pedo tied to the pole, went inside and shut the window, some poor sod was stuck in like medieval stocks ass in the air, looking all sheepish, I recognised him from school, "All right Jacko ," I says.

"I needs the cash Johnno," he says, "I ain't gay nor nothing."

"I'd rather starve mate," I says, "I been screwing Sandra from next door," I explained.

"You don't fancy me then?" he says, "Thirty quid?"

"Fuck no!" I says, "No we're going to get Sandra knocked up so we can get a council house."

"That's fucking sad is that," Jacko says as he stoops there ass in the air and his head ankles and wrists through these wood planks, all secured by a padlock, "I want to make something of myself."

I left the pillock to his delusions and snuck downstairs, there was nobody about so I slunk away I figured Al would be ok one way or another.

==================================================

Tony wasn't too chuffed when I reported back "Tied up on a porch isn't hanging by the bollocks from a lamp post is it?" he explained reasonably.

"And it ain't my license," I replied, "Have you been giving Sandra one?"

"I need the money Johnno," Sandra explained, "He's got a lovely little cock."

"Shut it," Tony says.

"I hardly know he's in there." Sandra said, "That's why I charge him half price."

"You little bitch," he snapped, "You fucking stupid little bitch." he said as he downed his pint, "Nearly knocking off time, I'd best get back in uniform and sod off back to the station." he said and he wobbled drunkenly to the door.

"Johnno," Sandra says, "Do you want to fuck me with your great big juicy cock?"

"Well I can't use anybody elses!" I explained, "Where, round the bogs?"

"Your house silly, come on," she says and she nearly dragged me out.

Tony was in uniform as we came out, "What have you mad bastards done!" he demanded, "Fucking control are doing their fucking nut, Assistant Commissioner Reynolds has been assaulted in Argyll street." he said, "Some mad bastard has ripped his bollocks off!"

"Tony, he had a mask on, I had no idea." I said.

"Oh fucking bollocks!" Tony exclaimed and he leapt in the Panda car and shot off down Borrowswick road towards Argyll street with siren blaring, I thought lights would have been a good idea, headlights and maybe the blue ones but what do I know I ain't a copper.

We went home, Mum wasn't happy, "Look John it's not right bringing girls home for the night." she said.

"We're trying for a baby Mrs Althwaite," Sandra chirped and poor old mum nearly fainted, "So as I can get a council house."

"Oh," says mum weakly, "You won't want breakfast then?"

"Oh go on then," Sandra says, "You twisted me arm!"

"Do you want a snog?" Sandra asked later on, after our third screw.

"Not really," I admitted, "Oh go on then!" she tasted of stale tobacco, it was like kissing a working mens club, it weren't bad really, considering.

"You want to fuck my bum?" Sanra said later, "Only don't you get bored just doing it face to face."

"Never really thought," I said, "But no, doggie maybe but ass holes are for shitting through."

"What about me period?" she asks.

"You got a mouth ain't you?" I pointed out.

"Oh John," she says, "You're really lovely!" and she snuggled down in my arms contentedly.

The Police came round before first light, Sergeant Giles Fforbes in person, "John Althwaite, I want a word," he bellowed.

Dad opened the front door and I went down in me Pyjamas, Sandra followed wearing my shirt, "By gum you been sleeping with minors as well?"

"I'm not a miner I'm a school girl," Sandra lisped, "Anyway I'm sixteen."

"Cut the comedy, have you seen this before?" he said showing me the rope I last saw wound around the Pedo bloke's bollocks.

I stared, "I thought so," he said, "You better burn it,"

"What!" I exclaimed.

"Someone hung John Reynolds the gay Assistant Chief Constable pervert from the flag pole outside the queers club in Argyll street last night," he said, "By the Bollocks while your mate Alan caused a diversion."

"How is he?" I asked.

"Fucking dead he fell fifteen feet onto his head when his bollocks ripped off." he said.

"I meant Alan," I explained.

"Having bits of sunroof glass dug out of his ass at the infirmary," the sergeant said "Now PC Mulholland has confirmed you were at the Club all evening so keep your nose clean lad," he continued, "And hang them from a bloody lamp post next time."

"Can I get you a cup of Tea Sergeant?" Mum asked.

"No thanks," he said with a look like he had tasted mothers tea before, "I better get back, we're got half the queers in Whetherby banged up at the station on suspicion of ABH manslaughter, I'd better get on."

I stared at the rope and vowed to use gloves next time.

=====================================================

"John," Sandra said between sucks later as she woke me with a blow job, "Did you know Councillors get nine thousand quid a year for doing fuck all?"

"No," I agreed, "No fucking womder Al wants to do it!"

"You should do it" she said.

"Sand," I says, "Get yourself some mouthwash I want to kiss you!"

"Oi," she says "That's out of order," but she did and she climbed on my cock as I lay there and I kissed her mouth, she tasted real nice and minty, and she had to do all the work to bring me off.

I had a word with Al and he said come down the meeting room and have a chat to the Committee, it sounded all right, so I went to see Stan Greening and Margaret Ash down Whetherby Liberal Association's office in Clare Street, a grotty little place over Mr Plaice the kebab shop.

They kept me hanging about for ages, and then asked all these stupid questions like "How long have you been interested in Politics Mr Althwaite?" they asked.

"Since yesterday why?" I asked

"Oh, and what would like to see change in the next four years?" they asked.

"Get rid of the Pedophiles mainly," I said.

"And?" Miss Ash added.

"The queers." I added, "And pay the workers more."

"What about Immigrants?" Stan asked.

"Oh yes, and them." I agreed.

"Mr Althwaite seventy per cent of our active members are lesbian or homosexual!" Miss Ash exclaimed.

"Right, I got nothing against Lesbians," I said, "Al's got some good videos of."

"Mr Althwaite, please!" Miss Ash exclaimed as she blushed crimson,

"Look Im not saying I want to watch you," I reassured her.

"Ugh you horrible, horrible man," she says losing her marbles.

"Mr Althwaite," Stan Greening suggested, "I suggest you try the BNP if you wish to become a councillor, now please leave." I bet he regretted saying that, dopy bugger.

"Right, thanks," I said, "For nowt!" and I stormed off out, fucking BNP for christs sake, load of morons, spiky haired thugs, I knew they met in the Flying Pig on Rosamund street so I went straight round.

"You right Johnno?" someone asked, it were Norman Biggins from the Butchers, dressed all in black like a pregnant SS officer he was, see we played footie for the school under 13 team before he got too breathless from the fags.

"Yeah, you?" I asked.

"All right, what you drinking," he asked.

"Fucking cyanide," I said, "Fucking Lib Dems told me to fuck off."

"And me," he said, "Just because I battered that Simpkins bastard when he touched me up."

"Christ," I said.

"Fucking wimps," he said, "What you want, they got Stella." (Artois)

"Pims and Lemon," I said, he fucking thought I was serious, "No Stella is ok,"

We got chatting, "Fucking trouble is as soon we goes out canvassing some bastard attacks us and makes out its us what started it when they comes off worst," Norman says.

"They fucking throw stuff and all," Billy Hillman added, "I went down town hall to a meeting and got smacked with a rotten egg."

"Christ," I said

"And I broke two fingers when I smacked the bastard what chucked it," he added.

"I fancy being a Councillor," I said, and I had a few more jars and I must have signed something because next thing I knew this bloody letter arrived at home saying I was their official candidate for the Warmsby ward of Wetherfield Council.

It's all very fucking well thinking about being a councillor but when you see nine grand a year up for grabs for just sitting around doing fuck all it gets serious.

See I wasn't born stupid it took eighteen years practice, but there was this "Meet the Candidate" night at the Subscription Rooms so I went down there with Al and a few others, turned out he was standing for Whetherby Ingleside ward so well we went in together and they thought I was a Lib Dem.

I quite liked it, talking bollocks to about twenty bored fuckers what couldn't give a toss, "And what do you think should be done about Pedophiles?" someone asked.

"Hang them from a lampost by their bollocks," Al said.

"Oh no!" I said, of course I was going to say if you do that their bollocks come off, but you know.

"Oh," this old cow said, "I thought BNP supported violent retribution."

"Yes but hanging Pedo's by the bollocks don't work." I said.

"Quite right!" the old cow said so I shut up.

Turned out she was from the Mercury, and it was fucking headlines in Tuesdays chip paper, "BNP rejects Lib Dem call for violence."

Norman was straight round the depot, "What the fuck did you mean, 'not hang Pedos up by the bollocks?"

"It don't fucking work," I said, "Their bollocks tear off," I told him. "They need a hook up their ass."

"You ent wrong mate," he said thoughtfully, "Fucking hell if our lads know you wants a hook up the Pedo's ass and the other cunts think we gone soft you could do all right on Thursday."

"Thursday?" I asked.

"Polling day you pillock." he said.

===================================================

"Sandra," I says she got home from school around half three, "You know I joined the BNP." she looked shocked, "They think I got a chance of becoming a councillor."

"Oh Johnno, can you wangle me a council house without me having a kid./" she asked.

"No, I fucking can't" I said and grabbed her.

"Mind my knickers they're," she said as I ripped them off her, "My school ones or they were."

We fucked there and then, the sunlight glistened on her brown hair as I pounded her, at least until I saw old Doris from number thirty two watching us and I closed the front door with me foot, "Do you love me Johnno?" she says in mid fuck.

"What's not to love," I says, "I reckon I do, it's like you always been here."

"Oh Johnno!"she says and gave my prick an extra squeeze that sent cum bursting up my shaft to flood her insides, "I love you too!" she said, "Now what about that teachery little Pedo you got to sort out."

"Bloody hell Sandra!" I said, "That's Al's problem," but it weren't because Billy came round with a load of old meat hooks which were rusty or bent or blunt.

Billy had hardly gone before the coppers called, Tony Mulholland and Sergeant Fforbes, "I'd like you to come down the Station," Fforbes says, "And no cracks about fucking trains, I'm the fucking comedian."

"I can tell," I said, "The funny hat's a dead give away."

"Shut it Johnno," Tony adds, "Did Billy bring the hooks?"

He could see them so he grabbed them and shoved them in a bag, "You can come too miss," he said to Sandra, and then we found Al waiting in the Police van, and a couple of the Pedo's from the pictures.

"Lads, meet Arthur Mellis and Sebastian Groom," Tony says, "Arthur likes underage boys and Sebastian likes boys full stop."

"That is defamatory officer," Sebastian announces, "I shall instruct my solicitor."

"Through fucking Tarot cards maybe." Sgt Fforbes suggested, "Because there's no solicitors where you're going, not live ones."

"I must protest," Sebsatian whined so Tony nutted him with his truncheon, that shut him up.

"Right, lets get moving," Fforbes says so Tony hops in the drivers seat and we headed off down towards the canal wharf.

"What's on?" I asked as I saw a copper on duty at the gate and loads of Police tape.

"Crime scene," says Tony, "They're all yours," he adds and he hops out followed by Fforbes and stroll towards the gate.

"Christ," says Al, "Stuck in a van with a pair of Pedo's."

"Look, I never hurt anyone." Arthur said stupidly, "I buy them sweets and ice creams, games for their play stations, and they enjoy it as much as I do."

"What, your fucking cock up their jacksy?" Al asked all incredulous like.

"It fucking hurts, I should know," Sandra adds.

"Oh yes, they really love it!" Arthur continued, "I love children."

"Fuck, you're seriously fucked up." Al says.

"Totally fucked, totally." Sandra agreed.

"Needs fucking killing," Al added.

"Steady on Al," I said, "Christ."

Sebastian looks really worried as he sat with his hands handcuffed behind him, he looked at Alf and Alf looked at him and then.

"Run!" Sebastian says and so we all legged it, just like that, we legged it, of course with that the coppers started coming back with that big daft German Shepherd dog Alf Grimsdale laughingly called a Police dog dragging behind because he was so over fed and ever got a walk except round the garden when it fancied a shit, anyway they headed us off towards where the railway crossed canal at an angle except Al climbed the wall up to the railway line and I gave Sandra a leg up and climbed up me self and the Pedo's was so out of condition they was way behind and handcuffed anyway and they was left panicking, cause they couldn't climb it.

"Swim for it you daft sods," I said and they realised, it was their only hope, so they dived in. not too bright as they was handcuffed but it didn't matter as there was about nine inches water and seven foot of silt in the basin, so they went in head first up to their waists, not that I worried.

They looked real queer with their little legs waving in the air when I looked back, "Daft pillocks!" I shouted and we buggered off before the coppers dragged them out.

It turned out health and safety rules wouldn't let the coppers into water without an inflatable raft so they got one from Morecombe, which took three hours by which time the Pedo's was well and truly fucked, totally rigor mortis, stiff, stone dead.

We went along the tracks for a bit and climbed down by Armstrong street where we had fish and chips at the Chinese take away, like you do, couple of tins of Four X and then went home.

"Johnno," Sandra says, "What do you think will happen to those Pedo's"

"Rot in fucking hell I guess," Al replied.

"Oh I do hope so!" she said like she fancied him or summat.

"Should have hung them by their bollocks," I said, and they nodded.

=========================================

I went round with some BNP leaflets next day, "BNP" I says knocking on the doors.

"What you going to do for us?" people asked.

"Fuck all, I just want the nine grand a year for doing fuck all," I said.

"Fucking hell an honest politician," or "Bollocks," or "Fuck off." was the replies.

Poor old Al was doing the Lib Dem ones, round the posh bit of town.

"You let the students down and the anti tory lobby down and the Yackity Yackity Yack," the Lib Dem supporters banged on, "That Nick Clegg."  Poor old Al thought they meant the old codger who cleaned the bogs outside the Town Hall, he never realised Nick Clegg was deputy Prime Minister, and if he did he thought he was a Tory.

I had me own troubles, "What about the Pakistanis?" someone asked.

"Well who else wants to sell fags at two in the morning, all the corner shops would have to close if they went home," I explained.

"What about the Chinese?" they said.

"Well who's going to run the chip shop?" I replied and they saw my point.

"What about the Muslims," they asked.

"Better than the fucking Jehovahs witnesses, and what about the fucking Moonies and Scientologists, most of them are Pedo's." I told them, anyway by dinner time twenty people said they would vote for me and the rest said they wouldn't vote BNP even if there wasn't any other candidate, so  reminded them voting was Friday, a day later than anywhere else because it was a day off for the Muslims.

"And if you don't like the BNP write summat nasty like "Fuck the BNP," across ballot paper," I suggested.

I don't remember the election, I had ten pints at dinner time and a few more after tea and we went down Town Hall, I sort of slumped in a chair and then after a lot of fuss the results were announced.

"Ah hem," some weasly little council git said and woke me up, "Mr Althwaite would you please come and check the spoiled ballot papers."

"Why?" I asked.

"There are rather a lot of them," he said, "Please!"

Christ was he right, this huge pile, "Most say something rude about the BNP," he said as he showed me them one by one.

"So?" I said,

"Two hundred and six out of one three hundred and eighteen ballot papers issued." he said, "Said Fuck the BNP or something similar."

"So they fucking hate me," I said "Big deal!"

"But of the unspoiled papers you had fifty two votes," he said, "The UK Independence Party candidate thirty eight and."

"You won!" Sandra said, "Johnno, you won!"

"Fucking hell!" I said and I fainted.

I woke up on a trolley in casualty with a TV blokes microphone in me face, "Congratulations Mr Allthwaite," he said, "What do you hope to achieve by this momentous victory."

"Clear the place of Pedo's" I suggested.

"Hang them from lamp posts by their bollocks?" he asked.

"No that's Lib Dems," I said, "It don't work their bollocks come off, no stick a meat hook up their ass and let them swing from that!" I said.  And he fainted.

"Must be a Pedo," Sandra said.

To be continued?

This is set in Lancashire England where people speak like on Coronation Street on Telly and swear a lot. If you don't like the F word don't F-ing read it and give crap feed back, all right.

A sequel to Hanging Pedos by their bollocks from a lamp post part 1

============================================

"Johnno, I've been thinking," Sandra said one morning between sucks as she gave me a blow Job, "I got my period." she says, "No offence but I'm not going to get a Council house at this rate so I've decided to move in with Alan."

"Right, fucking sly bastard going behind my back," I says.

"Oh I haven't told him yet." she says.

"Look, we'll stay be mates though, wont we?" I says.

"Oh yes, it's just." she said, as she took a quick breather "I get so pissed off with being spat at."

"I know, that's trouble with me being a BNP Councillor." I admitted, "Still I suppose with me expenses and allowance I can afford to pay a tart."

"Well, I only charge fifty," she said, "But it will have to be on a proper professional basis with a Durex and all."

"No you're all right." I said, "Fuck it, I'll miss you." I said and then I started cumming in her gob.

I went down Council offices for a meeting, fucking Lib Dems and Greens and Labour had half the seats Conservatives, Independents and UKip the other half almost, "Ah Mr Allthwaite" some poncy git says looking down his snout at me, "I trust we can rely on your support."

"What's in it for me?" I asked, see I was learning real quick.

"Oh, well, I" he said

"Fuck all by sound of it," I says, "Have a bit of a think eh grandad." I added.

"Hey Johnno!" Al says as he spots me, "How's it going?"

"Not so bad." I says, "What's on?"

"Fucking cock up mate," he says, "We needs your vote for chairman see." he said, "because if you vote with Tories there's equal councillors and in the event of a tie the outgoing chairman has casting vote and he's a Tory."

"Right," I said

"Except we can't be seen do do a deal with the BNP." he said apologetically.
"No problem," I said, ""I'll stay home then, or not vote for leader," I said and I had a think, "It'll cost your lot ten grand and," I had this fucking evil thought, "I want to screw that big fat lesbian tart."

"What Miss Ash?" he said.

"Yeah, straighten the bitch out." I said.

"Fucking hell mate they won't go for that." he said, so we left it he would have a word.

Next thing I know Mum shouts upstairs that there's someone one phone, I answered it, "Ah Mr Allthwaite, I'm Melanie Ash."

"Right," I says, "You up for it?"

"Will you come to my house?" she says and gives me the address. I told Mum I was going out and went round to see her.

She had one of those nice townhouse places down Battersby road, I pressed the door push and she let me in.

"We need to talk." she said, and she let me in the front room.

"Look you fat cow I came round to fuck not talk." I said, "I never fucked a Lesbo before or anyone with E cup tits."

She looked really angry, her bosom heaved, her tits wobbled and my old man definitey twitched.

"You really are disgusting!" she said.

"I had a fucking bath specially!" I corrected her, "So you getting your kit off or what?"

"No!" she said.

"So just drop your knickers and bend over the coffee table." I said, "Surely you had it with a strap on or something."

"Sit down," she said, and when I sat she said, "Yes, I've "had it." she said, "And not with a strap on oh no the real thing Mr Allthwaite," she says, "After Sunday school."

"What?" I asked, "When you was a kid?"

"Yes!" she nodded, "The Vicar."

"You poor bitch," I said and went across to her, "That's fucking rough," I said as I slipped my hands up her knee length skirt.

"No stop it!" she insisted but I dragged her knickers down. "No!" she wailed.

"You invited me in for a fuck so you get fucked." I said.

"No!" she wailed, so I tore her blouse open, her tits were huge,"No!" she said, "I want you to vote with the Tories, demand that Pedophiles are strung up from lamp posts by a meat hook up their ass!"

"Oh," I agreed, "And that Vicar bloke put you off blokes for life?" I enquired.

She nodded, "What a fucking waste," I said, "Who is this vicar cunt?"

"Oh, why?" she asked.

"Want's fucking stringing up," I said, "Look who is he?"

"St Theo's, he's still the vicar of St Theos." she said, "But surely?"

"Cunt," I said, "Can't let cunts like that get away with it can I?" I said, "Not turning kids queer."

She smiled at me, "I want to cut his balls off." she said.

"How about we hang him by the ass hole from a meat hook wrapped around a bell rope and then you cut his balls off, prick too if you want."

"Really?" she said, "What about Police?"

"No, they're not allowed to," I said, "They leave it to Al and me."

"Mr Althwaite, I believe I misjudged you." Miss Ash admitted.

Daft bitch, she looked so much like a cow with her udders out that she put me right off.

===============================================

I went round Al's place "Hey your Miss Ash wants some vicar pervert hung by his ass hole from a bell rope."

"Fair enough," says Al, "Sandra's got the hump.

"Oh?" I said.

"See I got to have a boy friend what with being Lib Dem and that." he said, "Them dopy cunts thought you was me boyfriend not me mate or they'd never have supported me."

"Fuck!" I said.

"Poor old Sandra's really pissed Johnno." he added.

"I'm not taking her on if she's up duff with your kid!" I insisted.

"Fair enough," he agreed, "I don't fancy screwing no bloke though." he said.

"That's not the half of it, it's when they change ends at half time and he gets to screw your ass." I said.

"Oh for fucks sake!" Al exclaimed, "Anyway what's this about a Vicar?"

I told him and that Sunday we was at St Theo's for Evensong, just two old biddies, the organist , the organists dog and us two.

It was exactly the same service like when we was kids, and even I knew the organist played the wrong sodding tune for hymn 278, he packed up and we still had a line to sing and he started again before we finished.

Anyway the organist legged it as soon as he could when the service was over and we hung about waiting for the Vicar to finish with the old biddies.

"Excuse me, what do you young lads want?" he asked after about ten minutes.

"We was going to nick the collection plate," I explained.

"Oh Reverend!" the old biddy in the greyer of the grey suits said, "And you thought they were vigilantes," she said, "Geoffrey is a Pedophile you know, he does an awful lot for the boy scouts and girl guides."

"Actually," I said, "We are vigilantes."

"Oh Mabel," said the grey haired one to the grey suited one, "How exciting, can we watch?"

"Mabel, Gladys for gods sake call the police!" the Vicar pleaded.

"Oh no, no Vicar, you had every opportunity to have high tea and a threesome with us and you always refrained," Mabel reminded him, "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned you know!"

"Absolutely," said Gladys, "My Nephew Tom never had any trouble when he was a scout but when he left he was terribly constipated."

"Yes, I only." the Vicar said as Al flashed his best smile at him.

"Just shut your gob you're talking bollocks," he said.

We all went up to the tower, Vicar had his robes on still, I was quite surprised to find he had a basque and stockings under it and not much else when we made him bend over as Al deftly shoved the end of the bell tower broom handle up the Vicar's ass hole to loosen it up a bit.

"You won't get away with this," the Reverend wailed.

Just then PC Tony Mulholland and Sgt Fforbes turned up.

"You sloppy buggers you never locked the door," Tony said "Miss Ash gave us a tip off."

"Thank God!" the vicar said blasphemously,"Arrest these, these."

"What for?" Tony asked, "You're the one with your tool out and a broom handle up your ass in front of two ladies," he said, "But you got a bald tyre and your tax is out Vicar, now that's a sixty quid fixed penalty,"

"Each!" said Sgt Fforbes, "Or you can have points as well, and what do points win?"

"Prizes?" the Vicar asked, as he looked helplessly over his shoulder at them with Al still pounding his ass hole with the broom.

"Shut it ass hole, not in this game, no, they get driving bans!" Sgt Fforbes explained, "Anyway you two layabouts, lock the door and get on with it," he said, "We'll be back later, we're off down the chippy for our supper."

We knew the big bell was just balanced see, against the stop, not rung down, so all as we had to do was braid the meat hook to the bell rope and jerk it.

The Vicar got uppity when Al yanked the broom out of his ass but Gladys got the lid off the font and belted him round the head with it, after that he sort of had this glazed look about him and when the hook was ready we eased him up and Al aimed the sharp end up his ass and as soon as it was right in till the curved bit was down against the Vicar's tail bone he gave the rope a pull.

Fucking clang, you never heard nothing like it,Clang Clang, fucking Clang! the rope jerked up and the Vicar lifted about a couple of feet off the deck and he screamed like a banshee, Al said, what ever that was, well like the circular saw down Allens timberyard when it hits a nail, "Screeeech." he went.

"Shit!" I screamed, as the fucking hook tore straight out of his backside and there was shit and blood and intestine all mixed up all red and stinking on the floor.

"He really has a very small cock," Gladys observed.

"What we going to do Al?" I asked.

"Stop the Bell," Mabel insisted so we all hung on the bell rope, "And wrap it round his neck!" she added.

"Right!" Al agreed so that's what we did, wrapped the bell rope around his neck half a dozen times, then held him by the legs so he swung from it for a bit.

The poor bastard gurgled a bit and went blue, but pretty soon he was limp and the world was a safer place.

"Fucking suicide," Sgt Fforbes announced when they got back from the fish and chip shop, "Depression, so sign of foul play except that fucking rusty hook now get rid ok?" he added, "Hot it up cherry red with the blow lamp and paint it, just in case."

"Fucks up the DNA," Tony Mulholland added helpfully.

"Better give the ladies a lift home lads," Sgt Fforbes suggested, "While we get the press, I mean the coroner around, and no funny business."

"Right," I said.

"Not you, them old birds are notorious!" Tony laughed, "See you round."

We took the old girls home, they seemed pleasant enough, completely mad but ok and went home.

====================================================

The papers were full of the Vicar's suicide next morning, "BNP policy claims first victim!" the headline screamed, with a picture of Sgt Fforbes and Tony grinning as they carried a blanket covered body out of the church.

Sandra was round our house next morning, "Can I move back in only I had my period?" she said.

"Make your mind up," I said.

"Well fuck you I'll go back to me mum's!" she snapped nastily.

"You know you don't like being spat at," I told her, "Why don't you pretend you're a bloke and stop with Al?"

"Yeah right," she said.

"Stuff a sock down your knickers so they think you got a cock." I suggested.

"Your not just a pretty face are you?" she said, "In fact you're about as stupid as you are ugly!"

"Can I still give you one later?" I asked.

"Yeah, thirty quid all right?" she asked with a pretty smile.

"Sure!" I agreed.

She had hardly gone when a police car rolled up, Tony gets out of the drivers seat and lets some bloke with a uniform more like a doorman at a whore house than a policeman out of the door.

"John Allthwaite, Councillor Allthwaite?" the bloke asked when I let him in the house.

"Who want's to know?" I asked.

"The Virgin fucking Veronica, now are you John Allthwaite?" he asked.

"Yes!" I agreed.

"So you're the bloke that gave the whole sex offenders register to Wickkyleaks." he said.

"Actually its hangpedophilessbytheirbollocks.co.uk," Tony said.

"No!" I protested.

"So why did we trace it to your computer?" the bloke asked.

"Because you set me up?" I asked.

"He's not entirely stupid then!" the bloke laughed, "I'm acting assistant chief constable Collins spelt B-A-S-T."

"That's not how you spell cunt!" I said, "But I get the idea."

"Mulholland says you're good at vermin control," AACC Collins suggested.

"I does me bit," I said.

"Well hanging pedo's by the bollocks is a bit awkward for us," he says, "Suicide suits us much better."

"Right," I agreed.

"Well we got ITV coming to interview you at half past, so tell them it's your civic duty to out the bastards," he 'suggested.'

"Fair enough." I said.

Sandra came round when the TV van turned up, "Shall I get my tits out?" she asked.

"No!" I said, "She's the local tart from next door," I explained, to a weasly looking bloke who seemed scared out of his wits.

"Mr, ugh, Allthwaite I presume," said some ageing tart that looked like that TV presenter's mum and turned out to be the presenter herself as she looked down her snitch at me.

"Yeah, you look a lot younger on telly." I said.

"What!" she snapped.

"You look fucking rough love," I said.

"Charming!" she replied, "Coming from a Homophobe."

"Look bitch, I'm fucking straight me," I said, "Ain't I Sandra."

"Yes,!" Sandra said, "Shall I get my tits out now?"

"A Homphobe hates Homosexuals!" the presenter said with a sigh.

"Right," I said, "I thought they come from the former soviet province of Homophobia!"

"Comedian, god help us a BNP commedian." she said, "Well I'm 'Leslie' as I'm sure you know and this is Algenon, my assistant and the gentleman with the camera is his partner Franck," she said, she wasn't really Leslie but she took out this injunction so I'll call her Leslie, anyway she stared hard at Franck, his jeans were so tight you could see the veins on his cock through them. He had ponce written all over him and he was so shit scared that his hands were shaking as he tried to aim the camera at us.

"Camera rolling," Franck said.

"Mr Allthwaite," 'Leslie' asked, "Why have you leaked this confidential information which puts the lives of many innocent people at risk?"

"Look, I don't want no innocent people hurt, if you ain't up to taking on no pedo then get a mate or two along," I said and fucking crash, fucking Franck had fainted and dropped the camera.

Algenon pounced on Franck and started giving him the kiss of life and Sandra got her tits out in case the camera was still running.

"Oh for gods sake!" 'Leslie' snapped, "You scared him you oaf!"

"He's nowt to worry about if he isn't no pedo," I explained, Leslie gave me one of those pitying looks posh bints give.

"Eighteen months, the boy was fifteen." she said.

"Fuck!" I said

"Something like that, more likely buggery," Leslie suggested, "That's what he likes, my husband, Franck."

"Right," I said, "Well live and let die that's what I says."

"Wake up!" Algenon said, but the idle bastard just lay there slobbering over mum's carpet.

"Oi cunt!" I said as I kicked Fanck round the cheek with me steel toe cap, "Wakey wakey."

He stirred, "Where am I?" he said.

"Somewhere they don't like pedos much." I explained, and he fainted again.

"Mr Allthwaite!" Leslie gasped, "Please!"

"What?" I asked.

"Just do the interview." 'Leslie' said and she turned on Sandra, "And you put your tits away please!"

"Fuck you!" Sandra snapped and flounced out.

"You look quite fit on TV, quite tasty," I said by way of trying to butter her up.

"Don't get any ideas Mr Allthwaite," she said, but her bra was too tight and too thin for secrets and her nipples started poking through it like dolphin's snouts.

"You better get a wank love," I said all seductive like, "Before you explode."

She belted me one round me face 'splat.' "Bastard!" she swore and she was shaking she was so wound up.

"Feisty little bitch ain't ya?" I said and I grabbed her and hauled her up on my shoulder and took her upstairs to calm her down, she screeched and wailed but I dragged her up to my bedroom and chucked her on the bed, she had this blue skirt on which came down real sweet, and white panties and hold up stockings, well the pants came down showing a sodding brown skid mark like she'd been taking it up the ass the filthy bitch, and I shoved her face in the pillow and got me tool out ready to climb aboard.

"Have you got anything?" she gasped.

"Yeah Durex," I said referring to me pack of three condoms.

"Coke, an "E" anything for a buzz?" she asked.

"Stupid bitch, my cock will give you all the buzz you can handle." I told her.

"You're so strong!" she said as I wrenched her over on her back and got her knees apart, "So fuck me you brute!" she added.

Brute, she was the one with the shitty kecks, but I rubbered up and climbed up on the bed and eased my tool at her, and with her guiding me as well I slipped her a length, christ you would have thought I was screwing the Virgin queen herself, "Oh it's too big! she wailed, but it weren't it was a nice sliding fit, and she relaxed and all them wrinkles seemed to disappear from her face and she stared at me wide eyed like.

"You like that?" I asked, "Do you?"

"Mmmm," she said, "Don't stop."

"You ain't a bad fuck all things considered," I said seductively.

"You have such a wonderful way with words," she replied, "Oh, yes, that's it just there!" she added like I gave a fuck if she was enjoying it.

"Oh that was sooo good," she said before I was into me stride, see I likes to get them going, have a bit of variation like a middle eight and then go for the big climax, it's with me being a musician like.

"Jonno, that was good, ok?" she said.

"Fucking shut up you daft bitch I haven't hardly started." I said lovingly and shifted up a gear, setting me rhythm to march time, as I sang, "Hitler, he only had one ball," to keep me speed right.

"No we're finished," she moaned and tried to push me off but in me mind we was at that crescendo bit and blam I was pumping spunk like a good un.

Thing is with everything, her writhing and that more spunk went in her than stopped in the rubber.

"Fucking southerners," I said sarcastically, "Cant wait to get your kecks off and can't wait to get off after."

"What do you expect?" she retorted, "It's about quality not quantity," and then she added, "Oh hell some of it went inside me."

"The whole bloody lot did all seven inches." I told her.

"Your semen," she said, "You filthy pig," and she looked at her cunt lips as she wiped herself. "And look at me. I'm all bruised."

"I like puffy cunt lips me," I said you know for something to say.

"Liar!" she said.

"Ok, but." I said, "How about we screw bareback?"

"No!" she said, "No way!" but she was no match for me so I just popped him right back in amongst me spunk from before and starts banging away again.

"It's like a half marathon," she said suddenly, "About half way you go through the pain barrier,"

"Fucking shut up, all right?" I said and I bit her ear and then as I sort of climaxed she started yelping like Mrs Harris's Chihuahua did when I stepped on it and busted its paw.

"Yap yap yap!" she went, "Oh my god, what happened?"

"A proper northern orgasm," I explained, "I reckon."

"You ready for Tea Jonno?" me mam shouted suddenly, "Only you're cracking the ceiling again."

"Yeah," I agreed, "Set an extra place she needs feeding up."

All she was worried about was whether she would need plastic surgery or whether her cunt lips would shrink back themselves, but after me mam's famous tea she had a little lie down again and well how could I resist her and it was ten next morning before she kissed me good bye.

"Boots the Chemist do morning after pill," I told her as she stepped out of my life, "Second on left past the Mosque, can't miss it."

I still can't give you her real name since she took out the "Super Injunction," against me, but look at the TV footage, it ain't rocket science.

=============================================
Part three

Things sort of settled down a bit after that, but then I got a call from Mr Boyce from the Standards Board, "Mr Allthwaite," he says, "We have received a complaint about your conduct."

"Right," I says

"Is it true that you promised to hang pedophiles from lamp posts by their bollocks in your election literature?" he said.

"Right," I agreed.

"Mr Allthwaite that is against the law." he said.

"Nobody told me," I said.

"Well I'm telling you now," he said, "I've had about a thousand letters of complaint," he said, "Which I've passed on to the police."

"Oh bollocks!" I said, "Look I just want me expenses and back handers I don't want no hassle."

"Well it's a police matter now," he says, "Good day."

The Police turned up next day, PC Tony Mulholland and Sgt Fforbes again, "We had complaints," Fforbes went on, "Every bloody Pedo in country's written to complain about you," he said, "Poor old Sally from typing pool was up all night writing down their names and addresses." he added, "You're going to be a busy boy."

He hands me the list, I scans down, Morecombe, Carnforth, some in central Manchester, Morecombe again and then, "Dusseldorf, how do you expect me to sort out a pedo in Dusseldorf, I ent got a passport!" I protested.

"Yeah, Sally had that one translated, seems you misled the electorate you naughty boy," Fforbes explained, "Give him a bell."

They hung around a while, polished off a bottle of single malt whiskey me dad won at the whist drive and said, "We can get you temporary papers to get you to Germany if you want."

"Still cost a bomb." I said.

"Official police business," Tony said, "We'll come along with you, won't cost a penny."

"Fair enough," I agreed.

=========================================

It was about a week later we arrived in Dusseldorf, we put up in one of those Travel Lodges all three of us in one sodding room, I'm sure Fforbes farted the entire 1812 overture at least twice and the place stunk like a piggery by morning, couldn't even have a wank.

I thought we was going to see a Pedo but Herr Blick was something else, seems he was professor of psychology at a private clinic dedicated to helping those with sexual problems.

"Ah Mr Allthwaite, you are BNP no?" he said, as soon as we got in his flashy office in a brand new concrete and glass office block on a brand new trading estate just outside Dusseldorf, "My own grandfather was a Nazi," he said in better english than me mum spoke,"A great man great man, worked for the KGB after the war." he explained, "Very humane."

"Right, what's your beef then?" I asked.

"You cannot hang Pedophiles by their bollocks from a lamp post." he said.

"Why the fuck not, what's it got to do with you anyway?" I says.

"I have done research and it cannot be done." he says, "The tissue is not strong enough and the bollocks tear off every time"

"Even when they got a hard on?" I asked.

"Indeed, even when wrapped securely around the root of the erect cock the bollocks or even the complete cock tears off before the body weight can be properly supported." he said.

"I figured that for me self," I told him, "I think a meat hook up the ass has to be a better answer."

"Yes, but expensive," he said, "Have you considered a cluster of coat hangers?"

"No, not really," I said.

"You can get them free from most charity shops because they don't know what to do with them," he added.

"You brought me all the fucking way from England to tell me this?" I asked.

"Oh no, we are the worlds leading correctional clinic for Pedophilia, no, I wish to show you how Pedophilia can be treated humanely, if you are interested," he explained.

"Humane, die in fucking agony is about right," I suggested.

"But we try to cure them," he explained, "If your friends will allow I shall guide you on a tour."

"Sounds fucking boring," I explained, "But might as well, you coming Tony?"

"Nah, you're all right Johnno," Tony says so they kits me up with a white coat and a name tag and Dr Blick takes me downstairs and through a security door and into the clinic.

"First we have the testing room," he says an he takes me through two sets of security doors, like great thick sound proofed ones into a room about twelve foot square with a wooden chair and like an old fashioned school desk in front of it and poking out of the chair seat a slim polished metal dildo.

"Here is variable voltage supply and variable capacitor," he explained, "Grandfather invented it in 1942!"

I thought it looked clapped out for something German.

"Should be in a museum!" I suggested.

"Oh no, the idea, no this is quite new, quite new, from Russia you see, poor quality but it does the job, shall I demonstrate."

"Fuck off I aint no Pedo!" I says.

"No, we have a gentleman to test, please sit in the corner," he motioned to a chair, "And we shall bring him in." he said something in the intercom and two big guys brought a suspected Pedo in.

The guy was maybe fifty, fat, balding, leery, pervert, school-teachery type, and he wore what I realised later was the standard uniform, brown shirt, boots and leather shorts but with the crotch cut out and flaps like a loin cloth covering his ass and balls. He had his hands cuffed behind him.

"Sit!" Dr Blick ordered as he squirted some lube on the shiny dildo, it looked like old sump oil.

"What the fuck's that, it looks like sump oil?" I asked.

"Is from my Opel," he agreed, "Good stuff, synthetic, very slippery."

The suspected Pedo was worried now, but as he was manhandled onto the seat so Blick aimed the silver dildo at his ass hole and with two eighteen or twenty stone blokes pushing soon the suspect was sitting down with five inches of steel up his jacksy.

"He is registered Homosexpervertenmenschen," or something similar Dr Blick explained, "We use other electrode when is straight guy, strap on, round neck, do you see?"

I didn't to be honest but I nodded anyway.

It was the work of a moment to put a dog collar on him with a leash which attached to the chair and held him down, and then they lashed his ankles to the legs of the chair.

"Now we adjust the machinery," Blick said and he moved the desk closer which is when I realised the side of the desk towards the bloke was metal.

"And action!" Blick announced, as the two men slipped away and out of the room.

There was a projector on the wall above me and suddenly the image of a little boy in school uniform appeared on screen.

"Watch his cock," Blick whispered.

"Fuck off, I ain't into this," I said but a film of a ordinary bloody kid in shorts and tee shirt with trainers just walking down the street was on.

"Watch!" Dr Blick said, "Watch the cock!" he said.

"Right," I agreed and sure enough the flap on mateys shorts was lifting, just seeing a ordinary kid in the street was giving him a cock stand, "So he's a pedo, now what." I said.

The shot changed to kids in a playground, matey was getting into this now, his tool was definitely stiffening, Blick pointed to the switch he was about to throw from "Safe," to "Arm," but first he selected 1500 volts and three seconds.

I never watched a bloke's cock swelling before, except my own, it sort of got all moist at the tip as it reared, straightening as he failed to control his pervert emotions, and sure enough the tip was heading for the metal plate.

"With the ass electrode and the plate it should make circuit any time," he said but the tip was already in contact with the plate and there was a sizzling noise.

"AAaggghhhhh," the Pedo screamed, as a smell like roast pork drifted across the room and his cock twitched shot a load of blood and grey spunk over the polished aluminium and went limp.

"Now I shall increase the voltage," Dr Blick said, "But you must leave Mr Allthwaite as the next film is illegal other than for medical use in the clinic."

I sat in a lounge sort of room with Tony Mulholland and Sgt Fforbes and watched the next bit on a widescreen TV, christ did that bastard jump, the sparks were jumping an inch onto his cock every time he got hard but he kept right on getting stiffies, even when all the skin had blistered off his cock.

"Excuse me gentlemen," Dr Blick said finally and he went into the room and must have pushed the voltage right up, because the next time matey got hard there was an almighty bang and most of his cock vaporised.

He went limp, I thought he was dead but we weren't that lucky.

"Is simple, test and cure in one operation," he said proudly, "My grand father was a great man."

"Look that's ok but we want the bastards hung up." I explained.

"Is not possible," he said, "But come take a snack, then I shall set up the experiment."

The tray of German sausages we were offered for a snack were not ideal, "Look like fucking dogs pricks," Tony observed.

"Tastes all right," I said but I was careful to cut mine up into slices first, the sight of Fforbes stuffing what looked like a dog's cock in his gob nearly made me throw up.

The German Cola wasn't too bad, and the girl that served it was quite tasty, but pretty soon Blick came back to show us the "Experiment!"

There was this room, like an operating theatre with a naked bloke strapped to a bed, but as Dr Blick pointed out there was a projector projecting films on the ceiling and one of those cranes they use for hauling fat bastards in and out of bed stood over the bloke's cock.

"This is Helga," Dr Blick introduced his glamorous assistant, gee, 34 inch legs 34 Inch tits crisp white nurses smock, short white skirt, blonde christ she made Sandra look a bit second rate.

"Now observe Helga please," Blick continued, "Helga will establish if the man is a normal man, Helga."

She strode across to him, slipped off her panties and climbed up on the bed until she straddled him, one knee by each ear and her blonde furred cunt right over his face, Christ I had to sort my tool out as he swelled and Tony was struggling too.

"Yah, nothing!" Dr Blick observed as the mans penis remained curled up.

"Down Helga," she brought her pussy closer to the mans lips, "No off the bed!" he said, "You cannot get staff." he said apologetically, "Regulations, I have to employ a registered sex worker."

"Yes," we agreed, "Right!"

"So next," Dr Blick explained, "We have the movie," he flicked a switch and the image of a boy walking along the side of a canal came on, someone's kid, dressed like kids do, just normal, "See!" he shouted, "Look a cockstand!"

We stared, the blokes tool was standing up, "Helga," Dr Blick ordered, "The noose!"

She smiled and reached up, a noose of black leather was looped around the crane and she swung it down and deftly tied it tight around the root of the mans cock, tight around under his balls.

"Wass is das?" or something the bloke says all worried like as Helga handed the hand control to Dr Blick.

"It won't hurt a bit!" says Dr Blick.

"No it'll be fucking agony!" muttered Tony, and with a whine the motor took the strain, of course his bollocks got pulled up his shaft, he started screaming then, higher and higher an then like a crimson waterfall the skin pulled apart and his balls and all the nerves and that fell out as his shaft collapsed.

"Schweinhunt!" was about all I understood of what the bloke was saying, screaming his fucking head off he were, as blood and spunk and everything splattered and dripped over the bed.

"See, the bollocks will not support the weight," Dr Blick said.

"For fuck's sake we knew that, didn't have to come three thousand miles to see it," I suggested.

"Better than stuck behind a desk," Tony suggested, "Still he said he would help you figure out a better way."

"Now, next room we have my solution," Dr Blick said, "Come see!"

We went down the corridor, Blick opened a door and there was a guy in leather pants with the front cut out, the biggest hard on you ever did see and his feet about six inches above the floor as he swung from something, I stared, he had a brown shirt and a dog collar with the rope through it but he wasn't dying.

"Ha, see!" Dr Blick said, "Now look!" he spun the bloke round, "Meat hook up ass, you see!"

"For fucks sake!" I said, "The poor sods enjoying it!"

"Ja, there is a problem," he agreed, "We use cluster of coat hangers for production model."

"So don't feed the rope through the collar." I suggested, "Let it rip the bastard open!"

"Ya," Dr Blick said thoughtfully, "And if we have loop of cord around the cock also?" he suggested, and then he yelled, "Helga, my office now!"

She just grinned and tottered after him on her ridiculous high heels, "He is sadist," she said, "I shall calm him down."

They were gone a good twenty minutes, "Christ I reckon old Herman gets a cock stand every time he rips the bollocks off of a pervert." Tony exclaimed, and Sgt Fforbes looked real sheepish so I figured he had one as well, so did I but that was Helga's effect on me, wow!

The poor old kraut what was swinging happily from the hook up his ass never knew what hit him when we sorted out his straps, Helga lashed his bollocks to the hook and Dr Blick released the collar and then we gave it a go and "Thwack!" I'm buggered if he didn't pirouette over around the hook an smash his stupid skull into the deck.

"Fucking hell Johnno, his fucking lights have gone out!" Tony exclaimed, but at least we hadn't ripped his bollocks off I thought.

"We should have winched him higher," Dr Blick agreed, "But we have the jist of an idea, yes?"

"Yes," we agreed, we could have told him that in first place but the Germans don't have no imagination so they do everything by theory and testing instead of getting stuck in and doing the trial and error bit like we do back home.

"So we are agreed?" he says, "So come." he said and we left the pedo bloke led on the ground ass in the air and all the side of his face smashed in and we followed Dr Blick down a long brightly lit corridor and out across the car park to a dodgy looking corrugated temporary building on a building plot opposite.

We went in, everything was covered in grey dust, "Gentlemen, meet Mr John Allthwaite," Blick pipes up.

Of course they thought Fforbes was me, must have mistook his Lanky constabulary uniform for waffen ss or something, but they all spoke reasonable English so we had that sorted out pretty quick.

"What I propose," Dr Blick said,"And why we invited you over to Germany is to market the Blick S500 range as the Allthwaite S 500 in the UK.

"Right," I says, "But what the fuck is a S 500?"

"Why an EU approved lamp post in reinforced concrete stressed for a one thousand kilogram hanging load of course!" he said, "It is against EU law to hang Pedophiles from lamp posts unless they have the EU compliance kite mark."

"No Johnno, the fucking lamp posts not the fucking Pedos." Tony added.

"Fair play," I says, and Blick took us to see this store room stuffed with S 500s.

"See the reinforced hook," he said, "In stainless steel."

"Right," I says.

"Five per cent of profits if we can use your name." he offered.

"Sounds fair," I said

"Seven point five," he countered automatically before he realised he was talking to a mug, "Ah yes five per cent," he said "Nett."

"Give us the chit and I'll sign," I said and that was about it when Fforbes and Tony counter-signed it.

I was going to be famous.

Hanging Pedos from a Lamp Post by their Bollocks part 3.

It's about (De) Bollocking Pedos basically, If you don't like the F word dont F'ing read it.

Any similarity to persons living or dead is unintentional but with such lifelike characters you probably know someone just like them.

You need to read part 2 first or its all bollocks.

Part 3.


I was lying in bed in  Dusseldorf about three in the morning when I had this thought, it just hit me, you know, like what if a Pedo wanted to be cured, why not roll his cock up around a spindle like the key on a spam can, and strap it to his belly with a tight belt? Maybe stick a tube through it first so he could take a piss.

Well it sounded good to me, but it was three a.m so I rolled over and went back to kip.

PC Tony Mulholland and Sgt Fforbes was with me, they was in a couple of rooms on the same floor as me in the same Dusseldorf hotel because they was supposed to be escorting me but as it happened they was so shagged out after a night with one of Dushka's mates that I had to drag them out of their pits and down to the Bahnhoff and stick them on the IEE or whatever the kraut for Eurostar is to makke sure they got back to England.

We was hammering across Europe at a ton fifty or so when, "Hey," I said, "Pedos right, why not wind their cocks up round a spindle, like the key on a spam can, like what if a Pedo wanted to be cured, why not roll his cock up around a spindle and strap it to his belly with a tight belt? Maybe stick a tube through it first so he could take a piss." I said.

"Hey slow down," Sgt Fforbes said.

"Good idea," said the white haired old lady sitting across from us, "Chop it off if that doesn't work."

"Wind their cocks up," I said.

"Look Johnno, you better think this through," Tony said, "You might have an idea there." he said, "Like a key with a slot, pull the cock through and wind it round, like the key on a spam can."

Bloody hell he was nicking my idea and improving it.

"Shit," I said, "That's it!"

"What are you on about?" Fforbes asked so we shut up and had an argument about Football instead.

I went round Al's place as soon as I got back, "Hey I had this idea." I said.

"That's all we fucking need," Al said, "Sandra thinks she needs an Iveco because she can't get up the duff."

"Don't you mean IVF?" I asked.

"Yeah whatever." he agreed, "You seen the telly."

"No," I said.

"You better fucking come in then," he says, "I saved it on video."

I went in, Sandra was sort of upside down against a wall resting on her shoulders, "She thinks it will help me spunk soak in," he says, "Dopy cow."

"You want a go Johnno," Sandra asked all sweet like.

"No, your all right," I replied.

"Here it is look," Al says all excited.

The clip started, that news reader kicks off, "Bong, Outrage among Pedophiles," he said, "Government to investigate!" and there were these two middle aged pervert blokes hanging from lamp posts with their trousers off and meat hooks up their ass screaming their heads off, yelling "Get me down!".

"Bloody hell!" I said.

"Mr Oliver Moody senior engineer with Wetherfield Borough Council is concerned about health and safety," said the news reader.

"Aye, one of these perverts could fall and injure an innocent bystander," he said, "We could of course buy reinforced lamp posts but there are budgetry considerations." he added.

"Meanwhile on British rail," the newsreader continued, "There are reports of perverts being beaten up on the 11.26 Manchester to Brighton through service," and they show all these pervert types queueing up to get on a train, the shot changed to some crabby old bloke in an old black uniform that might have been Waffen SS but was probably Bitish Rail.

"Mr Hargreaves, what has the train company done to alleviate the vicious attacks on this service," the reporter asked.

"Put a class 25 on with a set of mark one cattle trucks I mean coaches instead of a voyager and took the fucking seats out so thy don't get blood on them" he explained, "If the perverts wants to sit they can get a broom handle from Tesco and shove it up their ass."

"Thank you Mr Hargreaves," The newsreader said, "We tried to get a comment from Tesco stores but they declined to comment," he explained.

"And we're giving free tickets to BNP members so they can check that only Pedos get beat up not decent folk." Hargreaves chipped in.

"Fucking hell Al, this is big!" I exclaimed.

"We started something mate," he said, "I flogged a thousand meat hooks on ebay when you was in Germany," he added.

"How much did you make?" I asked.

"Fucking lost more like when fucking Pay Pal had their cut." he said, "Bastards at Tesco got wise to me scrounging cardboard boxes to send them in and Sandra wants paying for boxing them up."

"Shit, should have left the business side to me," I insisted.

"Johnno, I need a fuck," Sandra pleaded, I nearly gave in but the thought that Al was there half an hour ago put me off.

"No your all right Sand," I said, "I got to save me strength, I reckon I pulled a posh bint," I lied, well you have to don’t you.

"You sly bastard!" she said, "Bollocks!" which was a bit rich since she was the one as dumped me.

"You all right for Council tomorrow," Al asked.

"Far as I know," I agreed, "Why,"

"They're out to get you," he said, "This Pedo thing, seems the Homos are getting jittery they think they're next."

"Who the fuck told them?" I asked.

"They reckon you're Homophobic," he said.

"Me, fucking Homophobic, I ain't fucking Homophobic, I ain't afraid of a bunch of queers," I said, "What they going to do? Handbag me?"

"Just watch yourself, OK?" he said.

Council was a shambles, there must have been half the perverts in England hanging about outside the building, Police dogs, Police horses trampling people and shitting everywhere,  but I wore me overalls and sneaked in round the back and they never recognised me.

The Council was boring, I slipped away to the bogs when they elected chairman and the Tory bloke got it.

"Why did you abstein?" an ageing blonde reporter in a short skirt asked me, she was sort of fancy-able if you was desperate you know, nice hair, nice legs, nice smell shame about the face.

"Got offered ten grand didn't I?" I explained.

"Oh!" she gasped, "Why?"

"Well," I said, "Let me shag you and I'll tell you!"

“You drive a hard bargain Mr Allthwaite,”she said coyly, “But if I must I must, I have a room at the Railway Hotel, number 25, shall we say ten minutes?”

"Ok,” I agreed as it was the last thing I expected.

“Ask for Mrs Smith," she said, “if they ask I’ll be waiting, ten minutes,” she said again

Turned out she had bad PMT and really needed a fuck, “Oh,” she said when I knocked the door and went in to find her in a sort of babydoll negligee, “You came?"

“Not yet darling," I said as I locked the door and dropped my pants.

“Gosh," she said like she never expected me to be hard already, “You’ll have to give me a minute," but I pushed her back on the bed pulled her flimsy knickers to one side, grabbed a fist full of vagina and pretty soon a couple of fingers was up her and she was leaking like a Wetherfield council water tank.

“Ohhh," she moaned as I rammed it up her and she smiled this demented smile  I suppose I should have used a rubber really but well, it's easy to be wise afterwards.

"What are your plans now, John?" she asked afterwards as she wiped her cunt with a rag I lent her, she never even asked about the ten grand.

"It’s Johnno, I ent gone all poncy because I got me self elected." I said, "But I designed a Pedo Cure." I said, "See you shove a brass tube up their cock to piss through and then wind their cock up with a key like the one on a spam can."

"Oh," she said, "But what if the tube kinks? why not dig a hole in their crotch and poke the brass tube through that so they piss sitting down?"

"Right?" I said, "I never thought of that."

"It needs a woman's perspective," she said, "If they don't need to piss through it you could leave it rolled up till it rots off."

"That was the plan anyway!" I agreed.

"Good!" she said, "Are you hard again already?" she says stating the obvious.

"Uh, yes," I agreed.

"Good!" she agreed and next thing she had her arms around me, she pulled me down onto her and grabbed my cock and pushed it into her.

We got spunk on the Duvet and her new coat, I knew I should have rubbered up , she nearly went ballistic, but she calmed down when I asked her name and if I could see her again and took her phone number, “Susan,” she said, “Not Sue.”

I went down the internet cafe when I finished up with Susan, fucking emails coming out the fucking seams there were, half of them from Pedos threatening to do things to me, the rest wishing me luck.

One guy from Florida suggested using Pedos for live bait for Gator fishing and one guy from Cornwall explained how they planned to use Pedos for live bait for shark fishing and how they thought they would rip their bollocks off first to get some blood into the water, but a bloke from Cheddar suggested using them to explore underground caves, board up the entrance and see where they came out, and if they didn’t come out that was a bonus..

Twenty seven people suggested using pedos instead of foxes for fox hunting and twenty six of them suggested ripping their bollocks off first.

One guy suggested Pedophillia could not be defined as Muslims sometimes married at 12 years, moron.

I filed the info away for later.

I had a letter from the Party leader when I got in. "Allthwaite you wanker, rot in hell Ok," it said, "No fucker wants to hear what I have to say its all about you and fucking Pedos."

"Get over it!" I replied, "Start figuring out what we do when we run out of Pedos because at this rate there won't be any left soon."

Sgt Fforbes came round Friday morning, "Well according to our records there's no Pedo's left in Lancashire." he said, "Not one!"

"Right," I said, "That's fucked my idea for a cure."

"Plenty more about down south," he said.

"Right," I agreed.

"City's playing Brighton and Hove Albion Saturday, away, they're running a special train or two,you should get a few lads down there sort that lot out."

"Right," I agreed and I forgot about it straight away.

Sgt Fforbes came round Sunday, he waited till after dinner, he knew all about me mother's cooking.

"Who's been a naughty boy then?" he asked.

"What?" I said, "I ain't done fuck all."

"You want to read the paper," he said and shoved a copy of the Sunday paper across the table.

"Outrage!" said the headline with a picture of three Pedos hanging from three lamp posts on the West Pier at Brighton, "Council workers refuse to remove dead Pedos without having preventative anti Pedophillia injections first."

"Let the fucking Gulls eat them," says prospective Brighton BNP candidate "Nutter" Henderson it added as a secondary story.

"Bloody hell!" I said.

"Right," he agreed.

"You ought to try that Pedocure you been boasting about." he said, "Don't forget my cut, oh and heres the name of a guy who can make your windup thing for a good price"

As soon as he was gone I went round to see Sandra.

"Ooooh Johnno!" she cooed, when I told her what Fforbes said, "Thats wonderful shall we move in together?"

"You're having Al's fucking kid!" I explained.

"I can get rid if you want?" she said, "Please Johnno you know I always loved you best."

"Sandra you're the sort of manipulating tart that gets tarts a bad name," I said as I felt her swelling belly, "But under the circumstances if you're offering yes I will have a free fuck."

"Half price?" she offered.

"Free till the kid comes?" I suggested.

"You always were a smooth talking bastard," she said and dropped her knickers there and then.

"Sandra!" her mum protested.

"It's only till kid comes!" she insisted.

"No you filthy girl, you can't fuck customers while I'm watching Oprah on TV." she snapped.

"Can you wait till Countdown comes on, she always falls asleep half way through." Sandra suggested.

We did it in kitchen instead in the end, but it wasn't the same, Susan was far better at milking cock, and I realised I couldn't get her out of my mind.

We watched Telly after, "Nutter" Henderson was being interviewed, "What do you say to those who say you were responsible for all those Pedos moving away from Brighton?" he was asked.

"Well I need some help, and I reckon most of em went to France," he said, "We're off down St Tropez on Eurostar Friday, sort them out a bit."

"What are your policies Johnno?" Sandra's mum asked, "Now all the Pedos are emigrating," she said and I didn't have any.

"I never thought beyond getting rid of Pedos," I admitted, "I just fancied nine grand a year for doing fuck all."

"You want to try for the European Parliament," Sandra's mum said, "It's more like ninety thousand pounds for doing fuck all."

"Ooohhh Johnno!" Sandra cooed, "We could rent a flat!"

"Look you're having Als kid," I reminded her, "Not mine."

"Shit!" she said, and she saw it mattered to me, "Maybe the next one could be yours?"

========================================================

Tony Mulholland came round to see me, "Sgt Fforbes wants you down the psycho clinic at the Duchess of Cornwall Infirmary," he said referring to the brand new hospital up by the footie ground, "They got a couple of Pedos."

"Right," I agreed, "When."

"Now?" he said so we went round there, "Nice Motor," I said when I saw he had the Police Subaru Imprezza WRC outside.

"Man's car," he said, "Does one fifty on half throttle," he said as we set off down Wordsworth Avenue, "See?" he says and floors the throttle, "Look at that, ton already,” he says as he reached for the siren and blue light switch.

"It's a fucking twenty zone mate, watch that," I said and the breath was slammed out of me, "Speed bump."

He slowed down a bit and eventually after half an hour including some tyre smoking do-nuts and spins in the private clinic car park we arrived.

"Mr Allthwaite!" an elderly chap in a white smock greeted me, "Delighted to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you."

"Right, " I agreed.

"No not the hanging by bollocks or the use of an ass hook, but your simple and elegant proposal for a cure." he beamed., "But come through."

He studied his chart, "This is Mr Subhuman Pervert," he said as he introduced me to a bloke what looked like a scout master, "I always call patients Mr Subhuman Pervert," he added, "Serial offender," he added, "He volunteered to try your cure."

"You sure he's a Pedo?" I asked.

"Oh yes, show him a picture of an under 13 football team and he's like a rock in seconds." he added, "Ah Miss Hastings," he said and this blonde bombshell appeared, she must have been a DD chest wise, you know 44/24/34 fucking wow, "Do you have the tube?" he asked, "And photograph?"

"Yes!" she agreed, "Here," and she showed me a brass tube.

"Drop you pants Subhuman Pervert," the doctor ordered, he did as ordered and even when Miss Hastings cupped his balls his tool still stopped curled up, "Show him the picture, it's the Manchester United under 13 squad," he added.

watched as she threaded the thin tube down the eye of his cock, his eyes watered but then she showed him the picture again and he managed to spunk off through the narrow tube, even I was impressed, it must have shot out about six feet, (1.8 Metres)

"Comfortable?" the doctor asked.

"No!" says Subhuman Pervert."

"Good says the doc and he fishes out a giant spam can key like I described with a cock size hole in the end. Miss Hastings quickly slipped it over his cock an started twisting, he screamed, real lovely like the guy what sings in the Insurance adverts.

"Nice and tight!" the doctor added, and the Pedo fainted.

He looked so funny with his cock rolled up, "Will he be all right?" I asked.

"Depends on whether the brass tube kinked, we'll see when he tries urination." he explained, I must have looked blank, "Tries to take a piss." he added.

"Right!" I agreed, "I’m with you."

"Ten pints of John Smiths please Miss Hastings," the Doctor ordered.

"Steady on mate!" I says.

"For the Pedo’s Piss test," he added.

"Right!" I agreed, "Fucking waste of good beer."

"No it went out of date a month ago," he reassured me, "But come see our other patients," he said and we went out and he showed me round, "This is Evadne, she is waiting for her final operation," he explained.

The woman looked a bit odd, sillicon tits obviously, but wrong somehow, "He is due for castration, a complete penectomy," the doc said.

"Hey, we could do that to Pedos." I suggested.

"Castrate them under surgical conditions?" the doctor asked.

"No cut a slot and shove fake tits up their chests." I suggested, "So they look like this twat."

"It would improve the survival rate," he agreed.

"Bugger, just cut the slot then." I suggested, "See with fake tits and no cock they would stick out like a sore thumb."

"Doctor," the woman said, "I've changed my mind."

"What?" the doctor protested, "You can't have, you've been living as a woman for two years!"

"No, they'll think I'm a Pedophile!" he protested, "Maybe I could try being straight again?"

"Yeah get them fake tits took out, you look a right prat," I suggested, "Your hands are too big and your too ugly for a woman, you look like a freak!" I said kindly. Fuck knows why he started crying.

"Mr Allthwaite!" the doc said as he hustled me out of the room, "That poor man has been wrestling with his sexuality since he was fourteen."

"Fucked up the ass by a Pedo?" I asked.

"Why, yes actually," the doc admitted.

"That's the problem," I said, "He needs a few pints of ale and a season ticket to Trafford Park not fucking psychiatric fucking bollocks, I'll send Sandra round when he's ready for a screw if you want."

"Mr Allthwaite, you don't understand!" he said, but I understood just fine, it was him had the problem.

"What's the problem?" I asked, "He paid up front, you don't lose out and you can charge extra for taking the tit implants out."

"Oh, well if you look at it in purely commercial terms," he said like there was any other way to treat perverts, "You have a point!"

He took me to another room, there was this butch lesbian sat up in bed, "This is Freda, now she is having gender reassignment from female to male."

"Don't blame you love," I said, "Christ are you fucking ugly."

"Shut your gob wanker!" she replied in a deep growling rasping voice.

"Yeah, I see what you mean," I agreed.

"So you approve Mr Allthwaite?" the doctor asked.

"Oh yes, sure," I agreed, so he showed me round the place, the swimming pool was fantastic, the whole length of the basement nearly, "Christ, that's a bit over the top!" I suggested.

"But I like a swim!" he laughed, "Look after number one Mr Allthwaite, that is my motto."

"And mine," I agreed.

"Then you will endorse my treatments?" he asked.

"Depends if that poor sod can take a piss." I pointed out.

"So, shall we have a coffee, there are wonderful views of the Station from the staff room," the doctor suggested.

He was right, there was a bloody good view of the station, and we watched the trains and drank coffee for a bit until the doctor's phone went. "Seems like the brass tube kinked." he said.

The pedo was screaming, he was naked from the waist down with his belly all bloated with stale John Smiths, as he tried to straighten his cock out so he could take a leak but every time he tried he couldn't stick the pain, and screamed.

"Ahhhggghhh!" he wailed.

"Ah, now be still Mr Subhuman Pervert," the doctor said quietly, "I shall relieve the pain, Nurse!" he shouted "Miss Hastings, the operating chamber please."

She helped the Pedo through the door to the room next door, I wondered about scrubbing up but the doctor said it didn't matter with Pedos, ad Miss Hastings let Subhuman Pervert to a sort of womens birthing chair.

Subhuman Pervert sat down and Miss Hastings strapped him in, "Right!" the doctor said as he wrenched the pedos feet apart and clicked a lever to sprag the ratchet, "A small incision," he said taking a Stanley knife that was lying on a bench and cutting the bloke's ball sac open, blood and stuff oozed out and then he cut summat and a great spurt of piss gushed out.

"That's better." the doctor exclaimed, "Is it not?" but the pedo had fainted. It didn't seem to take a minute for the doctor to drag the end of the pedo's piss tube through a hole behind his ball sac.

"Might as well chop his bollocks at same time," I suggested.

"Indeed, Miss Hastings," the doctor called as he nicked off the pedo's bollocks with his Stanley knife and chucked them in a saucer, "Finish up would you please?" and he put down the knife and said, "Have you seen enough Mr Allthwaite, will you recommend us?"

"Oh yes, specially the last treatment, bollock em and roll the cock up until it rots off, ideal." I agreed.

"What about the titty implants?" Miss Hastings asked.

"Right, yeah why not." I added, "And make sure you give them the separate piss hole so they piss sat down."

"Exactly," he said, "What I have in mind is for bollocking as you call it and breast implants to be considered as a suitable punishment for pedophiles, an alternative to prison."

"Cheaper," I agreed, "But what about me reinforced lamp post business?"

"But they can still be hung from a hook up their anus." I must have looked blank because he added "Ass hole, they could still swing from a hook up their ass hole."

"Right!" I agreed, "And wear striped Pyjamas like in concentration camps."

"Perhaps, I am a Doctor not a politician." he said.

"I'll get onto fatso straight away," I said, and when he looked confused I said, "Our leader the fat bastard."

"Oh yes," he beamed.

"When I've had a shag." I added.

A shag Mr Allthorpe?" the doctor asked, "When you have had a shag, surely you don't get a thrill from torturing pedophiles?"

I couldn't believe he just said that about me. Me John Althwaite, the BNP local councillor from up north the bloke whats made a stand against Pedos. For fucks sake I don't get a cock stand from bollocking Pedos, it's more a sense of duty to me.

Seeing their bloodstained bollocks being stuck in a jar of vinegar and the hole sewed up makes me feel like I done something useful, seeing their stupid little cocks wound round an oversize spam can key makes me proud, seeing them hang from a Lamp post for a bit with a hook up their ass yelling their head off until the hook tears right out in a shower of blood and guts and drops them on their head, Wallop, on the pavement makes me feel like I done something with me life.

"It ain't that at all doc," I said and I blushed red as a beetroot, "I just need a shag."

The nurse gave me this icy stare, "You just want meaningless anonymous paid sex?" she asked.

"Basically," I agreed."

"You're sick!" she said.

To be continued

Hanging Pedos from a lamp post by their bollocks pt 4

It's about (De) Bollocking Pedos basically, If you don't like the F word don't F'ing read it.

Any similarity to persons living or dead is unintentional but with such lifelike characters you probably know someone just like them.

Part 4.

"I’m not sick, I don’t go groping kiddies or blokes," I insisted after Miss Hastings’ outburst, I just want to get me rocks off with a bird no strings like,” I explained.

The doctor nodded "Will you show Mr Allthwaite the plans and the prototype anal hook before he goes please Miss Hastings?" he asked.

She scowled at me but she went to his desk and fetched a folder of plans and a crude mock up of an ass hook, a modified black dildo with spikes laid flat along the sides from the tip and when she pushed the end they sort of sprang out.

Well it wasn't going to fall out easily!  "Push in, and then pull back and the six little hooks spring out," she explained.

"How do you get it out?" I asked.

"Why would you want to?" she asked, well she had a point.

"Wants a hook on t'other end," I said.

"Why?" she asked.

"Hang the pedos handbag on why else?" I explained, then when she never realised I was joking, I added, "To hang then from a Lamp post by."

"Why yes!" she said, "Of course."

"I'll go halves," I said, "On profits, I reckon Herr Blick in Dusseldorf could get a few thousand made up quick smart."

I looked at drawing, "I reckon it needs a streamlined end, rather than cock shaped, make it easier to shove up their ass."

“Yes, that makes sense," she agreed.

“If we an outer shell and a inner it could pump out grease as it were pushed in," I suggested.

“Or aftershave, or disinfectant," she agreed, “Poison perhaps?"

“No axle grease, that sort what EU banned on account of Dermot-itis," I corrected and we worked on the drawings fora couple of hours, even the Doctor cleared off home before we was finished.

“I was hoping for a one third share of the profits myself, Mr Allthwaite," Miss Hastings said shyly as we finally finished the drawings.

“Right,” I agreed, “Bit  short of the readies are you, well there’s a sure fire way a looker like you can earn a few quid.”

“Are you suggesting I am a hooker?” she said angrily.

“You got the looks,” I agreed, “Tell you what, sort me out, just straight with a rubber a few times and we’ll shake on three ways.”

“Don’t be so crude!” she snapped.

“Ok the find me a tart and I’ll agree to a third,” I suggested.

“Oh very well,” Miss Hastings agreed, and she started looking on line for “Escorts.”

It was a waste of time so I got Miss Hastings to drop me down town while I went looking.

I found this bint, her name was Lola and she advertised in a phone box and worked in a little flat overlooking the station, she was from Bradford and had to pretend to be Lithuanian to get a job, she was so excited to find I was famous that she offered to do it for free but it wouldn't have been fair so I paid same as anyone, mind you I used two rubbers just in case so it was as much fun as fucking a knot hole in next doors shed, not that I ever done that you see.

It was only three months later I found she was a Wetherfield WPC undercover and not really a prossie at all, mind you she banged like a prossie so maybe she was doing a few johns on the side like.

When I got home on Thursday morning mum told me the leaders assistant rang so I rang her back "Allthwaite you're fucking dead!" she screamed, "They want you on Question Time!" she ranted, "You instead of party leader, what you playing at wanker?"

"Look, keep your knickers on," I said reasonably, "For a start your visa expired last year, so don't push it, and second I don't want to be on question time anyway."

It was pretty hopeless, Sandra nearly wet herself when she heard I was going to be on Question Time and she threatened to tell the News of the World I had been screwing her since she was six, which would have been hard since they lived in Whitby until she was eleven, but hey what do those guys care about the truth.

So Sandra came down to London with her Mum and Aunty Joan and we went round to the Television centre and before I knew it I was on stage behind a desk and I was all wired up with these politicians I knew vaguely from the TV.

They all ignored me, suited me fine, then the piss taking started, that smarmy git was in chair, the usual one was off sick, "Before we get onto your specialised subject of Pedophiles, Mr Allthwaite, have you any thoughts on Libya."

"Fucking cheap holiday deals there," I said, "And plenty of action."

"I meant the war," he said.

"That's why the holidays are fucking cheap, wanker." I told him, he never liked that, so they prattled on for a bit, this Admiral wanker was on about the Ark Royal and why they shouldn't have scrapped it so they asked me.

"Why not use a container ship like they did with Atlantic Conveyor in Falklands," I suggested, "Just hire it from the Greeks for a month or so and fly Harriers from that," that made them sit up and take notice.

"Mr Chandler from Princetown has a question about suicides among young people in custody." the prat announces .

"What does the panel think about suicides among young people in custody."  he said.

"Sad," I says, "When it's pedos they ought to have a suicide watch, and a hook screwed in the ceiling of the cell and some rope left for them."

"Suicide watch Mr Allthwaite?" the prat asks.

"Fucking watch while they do it," I said, the smarmy git  sort of went a green colour and without asking anyone else he continued.

"And we have a question from Mr Exe, a recovering Pedophile." he announced, "Mr Exe?"

"What does Mr Allthwaite propose to do to recompense those whose loved ones have been traumatised by his campaign to maim and murder Pedophiles." he asked.

"Fuck all they're scum." I said.

"Exactly," said the Conservative bloke.

"I think we should consider each case on it's merits," said the Labour bloke, "But we can hardly justify using public money to support those who support Pedophiles."

"I believe in a measured proportionate approach and I believe all relatives and friends of Pedophiles should be offered counselling." said the Lib Dem, "It can be very traumatic to see pictures of ones loved one hanging from a Lamp post by an anal hook splashed across the press."

"Oh!" said the presenter,as a commotion broke out in the audience, this bloke with tatttoos, about twenty five stone of him had the questioner by the bollocks and was head butting him.

"Fucking pedo!" he ranted.

"I thought he was nineteen!" the Pedo protested, and suddenly it was like England vs Wales at Millennium stadium, like a scrum kicking off as all these people went for him.

"Very emotive subject," I said, "Fucking Pedos," and that was it, someone knocked over a camera and the lights went out.

I legged it, things always kick off when the lights go out, so I unhooked the microphone and headed for where Sandra was sitting, this bloke was groping her tits in the gloom, at least I thought it was a bloke but there was this rotten branch snapping sound when I whacked him and the only person with a busted jaw when the lights came back up was a spiky haired lesbian.

Of course we got the blame, News at Ten "Bong"  BNP wrecks TV debate, and they caught Sonia and me as we left the building for an interview.

"What do you say to the relatives of Mr Exe who is receiving emergency surgery for his injuries as we speak." this woman reported asked and shoved a microphone in me face.

"Bollocks, I thought he died," I said, "Now if you will excuse me I got some shagging planned.

"Are you sure she's eighteen?" the stupid cow asked.

"Eighteen, more like thirty eight double D," I quipped.

"Oh John!" she quipped, "Isn't he funny."

“Laugh! I thought I'd never start!" I agreed.

“Johnno, where are you taking me?" Sandra asked.

“Nowhere," I said, “I reckon there’s a posh bint or two hereabouts could use a portion."

“Bravo Mr Allthwaite," a familiar voice exclaimed, “Your girlfriend?”

“Ex,” I agreed, “Sandra meet Miss Hastings.”

“So you’re the posh bint Johnno chucked me for!” Sandra snapped.

“You dumped me remember,” I reminded her.

It was all done and dusted, and all fucking forgotten by next morning, just because some Swedish wanker lets fly with a Kalashnikov and wipes out a communist summer camp 89 dead and a bunch more wounded and we was history, no one wanted Pedos hung, no it was all about right wing  terrorists and bleeding Muslims.

Even Sonia dumped me like last night's chip paper when the News of the World cancelled their exclusive interview.

I made me way home feeling all deflated.

"We recorded you on the Telly," me Mum said when I got in, "All those people," she said like some kind of imbecile, "Sergeant Fforbes wanted a word when you get in," she added.

"What's his number?" I asked.

"Nine Nine Nine," Dad suggested in his idea of a joke.

I found the number and rang him up, "You wanted a word Sergeant?" I asked.

"The Pedophile squad is being put on checking out right wing extremists," he said, "You're top of the list."

"Right," I agreed.

"So it's down to you, I'll get their details sent round." he says.

"What do you mean down to me?" I asks.

"Clearing the streets of Pedos," he says.

"It ain't my job!" I says.

"Ah well," he says, "Not a job but there's a bloke offering ten thousand a throw for every Pedo bollocked." he says, "Of course there's commission, ten per cent each for Tony and me but it's a nice little earner."

"Christ," I says.

"Your mate Al's up for it," he says, "You better watch out or he'll have your job!"

"Christ," I said, "Yeah, just as long as they are pedos."

"Oh yes, no worries," he agreed, so we went back to pedo hunting.

To be continued.

PC Tony Mulholland and Sgt Fforbes

Mr Boyce