There I was this morning, walking up the high street minding my own business, when who should I see stumbling toward me like a tramp? Why it was the blooded face of Eddy Morrison, unelected Fuhrer of the BPP, the tiny little crowd of mummy's boys, too intelectually inferior to join the BNP.

Now, I know it was a few weeks ago that Eddy got his slap outside of the rugby ground (who can forget him screaming "please leave me alone, I'm hurt and bleeding") but our Eddy had a load of new cuts and bruises about him, fresh ones too.

Me: Eddy isn't it?
Eddy looked startled, was I going to add to his scabby lip and half-bitten ear?
EM: Yes, er... do I know you son?
Me: I've seen you about sometimes. Someone told me that you had beaten up. You look shocking, are you okay?
EM: Oh these? (Points to frsh looking wounds.) I slipped on the stairs last night, thought I'd broken my ankle but I've been to the doctor and he says it's nowt serious. How did you hear about the attack on me again?
Me: I've got some mates in the BNP in Sheffield who told me you were attacked.
EM: Sheffield? BNP? They've got an old 'mate' of mine in their among them, tell them to be careful of him.
Me: Who?
Eddy leans forward........
EM: John Wood, Griff. Someone told me he ws behind me getting jumped by the thirty pakis who did this? (Points to his scalp.)
Me: Pakis? I heard it was reds.
EM: Yeah, it was. (Shuffles on feet looking embarrased.) The reda have got the Pakis doing their dirty work for 'em.
Me: Right. Good. Where are you off to? The offy's not open yet.
Eddy explodes in anger.
EM: You having a fucken' pop at me, are you? You want fucken' trouble do you?
Me: Calm down mate. It's just that we're not far from it and I know you like a tipple.
EM: Sorry, yeah. I'm actually off on me hols'.
Me: Anywhere nice?
EM: I've got a bit of money put aside I might go to Morocco.
Me: Really, isn't that where poofs go to fuck young boys and smoke dope.
EM: You're a wrong 'un. (Starts walking away)
Me: No I'm not, Eddy. Don't be silly.
Eddy heads for, guess where....the off licence.
Me: Come on Eddy, don't be shy. Tell me about fucking Tony White's wife with Griff while Bentley watched. How much did Griff (John Wood) pay here? (The people in the off license, Asians funnily enough, look stunned)
EM: Leave me alone. Fuck off or I'll call the cops.
Me: They won't help, they did fuck about the kicking you took did they?
EM: We've got that sorted, now FUCK OFF! (Tuns to Asian lady behind the counter.) Can I have the six can deal, please?
Me: Did you know that little Kevv is playing with Tony again while you've been recouperating?
EM: No comment. Get out of my my way.
Me: I hear you did a video of her, one which Mark Collet has and has sparked all of this trouble between White, Bentley and him?

Now here's the good bit. Eddy tried to ring someone on his mobile phone, but he has no credit left. Apparently, since John Wood left the BPP, nobody's been paying for his phone credits. He asks the Asian lady in the shop if he can borrow her phone.

Lady: We want no trouble, please leave.
EM: Can you call the police love? This man is going to attack me.
Lady: Please leave.
Me: You don't need credit to phone the pigs, Eddy. It's free.
EM: I have a special number direct to CID [Interesting] now FUCK OFF.
Lady: I am calling the police, you must go.

Eddy then tries to run, but drops his cans outside the shop. I'm standing over him and he's too scared to pick them up.

EM: Are you gonna kick me if I bend over.
Me: No, Eddy. Pick your cans up and fuck off.

He does. And off he scuttles to Thomas Cook.
Morroco here he comes!