R.I.P. Daffy

My handlers never tell me what the next job is or what side Old Knudsen is on. It gets a little confusing because one minute yer eating sausage rolls with Col Gaddafi at some BP function and the next yer teaching National Transitional Council Fighters how to shoot straight and kill said Colonel.

SandSavages don't have it in their DNA to shoot straight just like a fly cannae understand a pane of glass, so ya have yer werk cut out for ya.

Times being tough I was doing a wee under the table job for Muammar as he was running out of friends : Old Knudsen is not a friend to any living or dead dictator he just likes money and fawning ego strokers terms and conditions may apply.
  
It was a hot day and the gravy pouring out of me so I said, "Mumraa me mucker, you go doon to the Mini Mart and get yerself some cream for yer Jheri curl as yer losing yer bounce oh and pick me up some ciggies with Abdoul or whoever that one is cos I'm going on me break". 

Gaddafi shrugged and headed out into the harsh sun that glinted off his tacky golden pistol that me would give me in payment for keeping him safe and killing loads of rebels.

I'd killed 5 or 20 rebels already so I was feeling like I needed a break and a dump before the toilets started to back up thanks to the NATO bombings.

So I was sitting on the bog eating my cheese and Branston pickle sandwich, a wise precaution as cheese just goes right through me. 
The Colonel took off with his convoy of Abdouls and Ahmeds, ach baby sitting can get sooo tiring how much trouble can they get into at yon Mini Mart?  then I heard the sound of NATO up to their old tricks bombing the fcuk out of something followed by a smattering of gunfire ............ the penny dropped. No really somehow I'd swallowed a penny ach the odd things you find in yer shite.


My ultra keen senses were screaming at me "AMBUSH!" but I'm no taking a bullet for nae cunt during my break.

For fcuks sake some Amish twat got me gun. Ah well its off to the job centre again.