(Sawing the Heads Off) The Wonga Puppets

 

 

No words were exchanged during their last supper:
A Beef and Tomato Pot Noodle, split three ways.

At the conclusion of the repast,
I bundled them together like sticks
and threw them forcibly
into the boot of the Espace
before driving on down,
like Patrick McGoohan on meth,
to a lock-up on the edge of
the Forest of Dean Gaffney.

I took them out into the light.
Such ugly, wrinkled walnut faces!

Preying on the poor,
                   the vulnerable,
                   the desperate,
with a 5000% interest rate.

"Puppets, prepare for the great decapitate!"

I drew a pencil line on Betty's neck
and selected my sharpest saw.
A cracked grandma voice
creaked like an old wooden floorboard:
"Have you taken a payday loan of your senses?"

No longer, Wonga, no longer...


B.R. 23/04/2015