Short Story Preview: Forget it
‘It was only a fucking rumour,’ I said, getting annoyed. ‘He didn’t really blow his brains out on stage after singing Forget It. He’s alive and well and living in Detroit.’
‘Ja, I know,’ Dave grinned, ‘but what a cool story, hey.’ He sang the famous line from the song and ended, ‘Forget it, BLAM!!!!’ His head jerked back as he shot the bullet from his finger into his head. Dimwit looked round from the driver’s seat and grinned.
‘Watch the road, you wanker!’ I yelled as we mounted the pavement. ‘Fucking drummers!’
Dimwit quickly righted the van.
‘We should call you Ringo Starr, Ringo Disar-star.’ I said. Hell that was childish.
Dave was still grinning at me. I was sure he was stoned.
‘Calm down, John-Boy.’ This was our bassist, Bigfoot. His real name was Shaun, but had gained his unimaginative nickname from his size 13 feet. No one knew what Dimwit’s real name was.
Read more about John and buy Cold Fiction to continue the storyShare