Sep 30, 2009 18:56
[There’s a brief shuffling throughout, as Paddy’s pacing his room. He’s loud, brash and has a strong Belfast accent when he talks - at first, he sounds outright angry]
Oi. Is the afterlife allowed to fucking imprison me without a fucking trial or anything? Do I even get a bloody lawyer? Has God even heard of habeus-fuckin’-corpus? [A pause. A sigh. A mumbled curse as he realises He probably hasn’t. He calms down a little and continues]
Prison’s prison, I guess. So, to business. Quick, quick, someone tell me before I have reason to make them - Who’s the rat, who’s the fence, who’s the corrupt warden, who’s the bitch and who’s the big man around these parts? If there isn’t one - from this point on, consider it me. Or I’ll beat your fuckin’ face in. [There’s a brief laugh after this, because he was only joking - sort of] If there is, I’m not about to step on any toes.
Paddy Maguire. If you haven’t heard my name yet, it’ll become familiar, no fuckin’ doubt.
[There's a pause and sigh whilst he realises there's something else he really should ask, even if part of him doesn't want to]
Oh. If someone could direct me to the doctor around these parts, I'd like a word with him.
weakness is not my strong point,
voice posts bring out the angry irish,
fresh from prisoner cell block h