Bobby Bounce the idiot child stood at the shut door of the huge church holding his football crying.
“Jesus christ” he shouted “Stop being a bollox and come out to play?”
Like most days in Ballydank, it was dreary, endlessly dreary like a stagnant puddle of dirty dreariness.
The citizens obliged the authorities by tugging through their daily consuming in a passive and obedient manner.
The authorities rewarded the dull citizens with cheap cider, affordable rollies, addictive social media and deep fryed white bread dipped in sugar.
Bobby Bounce smelt of cat piss and had has been wandering the littered alley ways of Ballydank before he could crawl.
The streets and laneways had been his education, so he knew fuck all.
Bobby Bounce had a gift of random acts of daftness and that gift could be relied upon to give the everyday monotony a good kick in the dick.
Another gift he had was the ability to bounce a ball on his head.
Some people were so impressed by his ball bouncing that they showed him charity with scraps of food, ends of cakes, dregs of drink and shouts of “you’re a fucking brainless gobshite”
Bobby would show his gratitude by bouncing the ball even more on his head.
‘Mary why can’t Jesus come out to play?’ shouted Bobby towards one of the stain glass windows over and over again.
The door stayed firmly shut, Bobby whacked the ball against the church door and shouted “Dick”
A small crowed had gathered to watched the idiot child shout at the lord and bonce a ball on his head.
Eventually the guards were called.
‘Your going to have to move on’ demanded Sargent J Mac Wane the donut shaped sweaty cop from the back of his police issue Honda 50 motorbike.
‘Fuck off’ shouted Bobby, and kept kicking the ball.
Sargent J Mac Wane dismounted his bike and strutted like a gun slinger from an old western towards the now distraught child.
It was high noon on the steps of St Percy Catheral of the bleeding heart.
An enthusiastic audience had gathered in a circle around Bobby. It was actually going to be an lively Tuesday morning in an otherwise uneventful October.
People began sharing roll ups and passing arounds a 2 litre bottle of cider, someone shhhh-ed and a used a napkin rolled in the breeze between the cop and the idiot child.
All that was missing was a tolling bell from a church steeple, and then a bell tolled.
Drama was infiltrating the towns piss stained cobbled stoned streets.
The locals knew Sargent J Mac Wane was good for entertainment, only last week he had punched an elderly women unconscious. Her crime had been to drive her mobility scooter on a footpath.
“I’m giving one more warning” bellowed Sargent J Mac Wane, waving around his hitting stick while his left hand had a good go at adjusting his balls.
“Stick that pole up your fat pig ass you cunty ball bag” cried Bobby.
The mob pissed themselves laughing.
Sargent J Mac Wane turned his now red swollen fatty sweaty face to the gather crowed, “I want you people to disperse.”
The laughter stopped but no one moved.
“Disperse now” he spitted while wielding his hitting stick at the mob, the people went quite. Sergeant J Mac Wane stood his ground wallowing in his ability to control a huge mob when suddenly from behind him he could hear the nose of a police issue Honda 50 motorbike being revved.
Bobby was sitting on Sergeant J Mac Wanes motor bike.
The gathered mob held its breath.
“Get off” blasted the cop.
Bobby nodded slowly form left to right, it was a nod that said more than just no. Maybe it was Bobbys playful grin, or the casual but indifferent swish of his head.
But it was clear to all there and especially Sergeant J Mac Wane that it was a no that also said, ‘Get fuck you cunty fat bollox of a cop wanker.”
Wane stared straight into the the crazy eyes of Bobby, who stared right back. The sun was high, the mob were transfixed, the bike revved, the cop griped hard onto his stick, a crow flew past, a mother hushed her crying baby, and finally the cop moved. The cop charged towards his bike, Bobby release the hand break and spun the bike around and started driving around the inner circle of the mob. The cop chased him and around and and around they went, a merry go round of angry cop and idiot child bringing howls of laughter and joy to the gathered masses.
Bobby saw a path open up in the mob and turned the bike in that direction and made his escape from the circle.
Booby burst out of the mob in a cloud of dirty motor bike smog, as he wizzed out of the circle he briefly turned his head to see the exasperated cops face and in a final moment of defiance extended his middle finger.
The mob went wild, a huge cheer went out, and Bobby vanished on the Honda 50.
Sergeant J wane was reduced to a powerless fat failure of a man, the mob pointed and laughed at him. He shouted at them, and they laughed more.
An idiot child had just stolen his motorbike. He looked as pathetic, he had no choice but to waddled away in shame as the mob slow clapped him down the street.
Everyone agreed that It had been a cracker of a day at St Percy Catheral of the bleeding heart, the mob dwindled away until all that was left of the day event was a lonely football leaning on the church door.
The next day Bobby went back for his football.
He started banging his fist on the door of the church and shouting.
“Jesus come out and play”
There was still no reply.
“Fuck sake Jesus come out. I’m not leaving until you come the fuck out”
The people of Ballydank could not belive their luck, the idiot child Bobby Bounce was back at the church.
Bobby was determined to get Jesus out of the church to play football, he started bouncing the ball on his head and occasionally lashing it against the door.
A new mob began to form a circle around the annoyed Bobby Bounce. They clapped and cheered for Bobby Bounce the idiot child that had shamed Sergeant J Mac Wane.
The more they clapped and cheered the more people came to join the mob.
Some of the new mob brought food, other brought drink, someone brought a hat and put it near Bobbys feet and the hat began to fill with money.
It was looking like another cracker of day and then a dark cloud covered the sun, sirens chiseled through the city soundscape followed by ominous blue flashing lights bouncing off the crumbling building.
Sergeant J Mac Wane arrived at the scene but this time he was not alone he had brought with him a squad of armed riot cops complete with shield, badges, helmets and big thick bashing sticks.
The bell tolled from the steeple of the church, sun reflected off riot shields, a cafe put up a closed sign, a pigeon shit itself and a child ran into the arms of it’s mother.
It was one idiot child with a football against a well trained vengeful police force.
The mob had swelled to about 6 people deep, and a huge Fuck the Police came from it when the first few riot cops tried to make their way through to Bobby.
The first cop to get push back by the mob had his shield swiped off him and then found himself been pushed over and kicked by serval different people while an older women whacked him with his now cracked shield, shouting “Leave our bobby alone”.
The riot cops pull back and tooled up with bigger sticks. Sergeant J Mac Wane shouted at the mob, you have 3 seconds to disperse, he got to two and a hail of cobble stone rain down on the riots cops.
Fuck you cop bastards shouted Bobby form the centre as he bounced his ball on his head. The mob celebrated with a huge “The only good cop, is a dead cop”
The cop pushed forward but the mob pushed back.
Slowly the mob went from a circle to a clump and at the centre of the clump was Bobby.
The cops charged, but the mob resisted.
The angry mob was unstoppable, it moved violently forward.
Anything that blocked its path was chewed up and spit out, a pram, a bike, a sing post, a lost tourist.
A park bench was rooted up thrown and landed in the windscreen of a cop car.
The barricade that the cops has set up was easily breached.
Someone even managed to set 2 cop cars on fire.
Scared cops ran like rats from a burning house.
The mob was impenetrable, and united in its mission to protect its new king Bobby Bounce the idiot kid.
Bobby and his football were manhandled into the back of an ice cream van. The van drove off at speed and Booby was able to use money from the hat to buy himself a double flaked 99.
Sergeant J Mac Wane stood on the steeps of the Catheral of St Percy of the bleeding heart.
At his feet lay smashed hitting sticks, cracked helmets and broken bits of cops.
The door of the catheral squeezed open an electric blue light burst from the church, Sergeant J Mac Wane heard what sounded like a choir sining and a young child appeared. The child let his sad gaze fall on the chaos and then slowly he look into Sergeant J Mac Wane eyes and said “Prick”. The kid then slammed the huge door shut.
The slam boomed and sent a shudder up from the earth to the steeple of the church.
When Sergeant J Mac Wane looked up he saw the steeple falling toward him and almost immediately afterwards he was crushed. Somewhere deep inside the church a mother could be heard scolding her child for going outside.
Base on true events that happen to Anthony Living space.