The fuck fucked the fucking fucker. Not fuck as in fucked, but fucked as in fucked him up. See, the fucking fucker was fucking around with the fuck’s fuck, so the fucker was asking to get fucked. Not content with fucking the fucking fucker up, the fuck fucked with the other fucking fucker’s fuck too. Fucked her in the fucker’s car. Fucked the fucking car as well. Fuckin’ A. When the fucked-up fucking fucker saw the fucking fucked-up state of his fuck and his fucking car, he fucked off fucking fast. Returned—fucked cause he was still fucked-up—with a fuck-off shotgun. Fucking blew the fuck out of the fuck and said to his own fucking fucked-up fuck, “Now that’s that fucking fucker fucking fucked.”
“Thank fuck,” she said. “That fuck was a real fucking fuck.”
Later, they were fucking. Mid-fuck she said, “You didn’t fuck his fucking fuck like the fucker said, did you? If you did, you’re fucked, you fucking fucker.”
He said, “I can’t believe you’d think so badly of me, honey.”
“Fucking mistake,” she said, cold as fuck, fucking blade ever-so-fucking-shiny in her fucking hand. “Only fucking liars don’t say fucking fuck.”
He was fucked. He looked at her and said, “Shit.”
~ fin ~
Allan Guthrie is a Scottish literary agent, author and editor of crime fiction. He was born in Orkney, but has lived in Edinburgh for most of his adult life. His first novel, Two-Way Split, was shortlisted for the CWA Debut Dagger Award, and it won the Theakston’s Old Peculier Crime Novel of the Year Award in 2007. His second novel, Kiss Her Goodbye, was nominated for an Edgar Award, an Anthony Award, and a Gumshoe Award.
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