SkinMarvin Gay Stories

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Chapter 8

Anthony didn't know how long he was kept in the darkened room - he drifted in and out of a fitful sleep - slowly resigning himself to his fate. He wasn't to know at that stage that the skins had been preparing for his capture for weeks, ever since they'd gotten the tip off that the cops were after them. Anthony was theirs now, to do with as they liked.

The next morning, Nisbo and Charlie came to "waken" Anthony. That's when he heard his new name for the first time. "Oi, wakey, wakey, Buster. You've got a busy day ahead of you, remember," said Charlie, almost gleefully. At first Anthony thought that Buster was just another term that they used amongst each other. "Right, Buster, first of all we need a few signatures from you, so we're goin to have to undo you from your chair. If you know what's good for you, you won't struggle to get away."

By now, the other four skins were in view again, and Anthony knew that it would be futile to even try. Charlie undid Anthony's hands while Nisbo brought some seemingly blank paper for Anthony to sign. Anthony saw however that there were typed up portions hidden from his view. "What am I signing here?? You don't seriously expect me to sign something I haven't read," protested Anthony.

"Listen, Buster, just get your fuckin signature on those papers, will ya, we haven't got all day." The knife that Nisbo was taking out of his pocket in Anthony's view was enough to convince Anthony. He reluctantly signed the several sheets in front of him.

"Well done, Buster. We knew you'd see sense in the end," said Charlie.

"What's with this "Buster" business?" asked Anthony confused.

"That's you. As sure as fuck you weren't goin to be hanging around us with a poncy name like Ann-Toe-Nee, were ya? You'll answer to Buster from now on. See? It's all official, look.." With that, Charlie showed Anthony the text of one of the papers he'd signed. It was an official deed poll request to have his name changed from Anthony Stevenson to Buster Hardman. Anthony gulped and let out an audible, "oh shit."

"What else have I signed?"

"Well, lets just say you're precious Rachel will be more than a bit surprised to get the "I don't love ya no more" letter from you.....and your resignation will cause a stir back at the office, I'm sure, Buster. Those are just for starters. You don't need to know about the rest for now," said Charlie. Anthony could not believe this was happening to him and started to struggle to get out of his chair - his feet were still tied.

"Oh, oh, Nisbo, he's getting restless. Get some Special Brew." No sooner had Nisbo been given the word he was gone to get some of the strong beer to calm Anthony down. "Look, Buster, remember what I told ya yesterday - you've no fuckin chance against us. You may as well join us, you sure as fuck can't beat us." Nisbo held Anthony's head back while Charlie poured in a can of beer to subdue Anthony.

"Now we're goin to untie you and let you out of your chair for a bit - we need to give you some breakfast so you don't throw up later on. Now any misbehavin, Buster, and we break your fuckin legs." Nisbo and Deck untied Anthony's legs and brought him into the room where his head had been shaved. His clothes were still lying in the corner. Anthony went to put them on.

"Oh no you don't, Buster. They belonged to Ann-Toe-Nee. Gather them up and bring them outside to the back." Nisbo and Charlie marched Anthony through the small (disgusting) kitchen and into the backyard. Anthony was still naked, although he was sure no one else could see him apart from the gang. "Put the clothes in a pile against that wall and pour this liquid over them." Anthony knew it was petrol. "Please, no, my jacket was a present.."

"Yeah, a present from the girlfriend that you've just told to fuck off in your letter, remember..." Anthony laid the jacket on top of his shoes, jeans and shirt. He then poured the petrol over the top. The whole gang had come out to watch the spectacle. Charlie handed a box of matches to Anthony in exchange for the container of petrol. Shaking like a leaf, Anthony stepped forward and set light to his former clothes. The huge cheer from the skins added insult to his injury.

"Right, Buster, inside and get some breakfast in ya," ordered Charlie, "you're goin to need it."

Anthony's breakfast usually consisted of a bowl of muesli, a slice of wholewheat toast and an expresso. Buster was given a huge fry up, swimming in grease, several slices of fried white bread and a huge drink of tea from a chipped mug.

"Get used to it, Buster, you're goin to be puttin a bit of weight on for us while you're here - remember we don't want you recognisable." Charlie broke the egg and yellow yolk messed up the whole plate. "There, now get it down ya." Anthony managed half of it. That wasn't enough, however, for Charlie. "EAT!" bellowed Charlie. "I can't eat anymore, I'm full."

Charlie picked up the two rashers of bacon that were left and stuffed them into Anthony's mouth, closely followed by a large pork sausage. Tears came to Anthony's eyes because he could hardly breathe there was so much food in his mouth. Eventually, with Charlie's encouragement the plate was cleared.

"Now, Buster. We gotta get you sorted out with some ink. All the lads here have ink and you ain't going to be any different. Nisbo, is Jimmy on the way?"

"Yes he is Boss. He'll be here in half an hour. He said to make sure we'd given Buster food to eat so he won't chuck up when he's getting done. And he asked if you were sure about what you want done on him."

Charlie broke into a smile. Oh yes, he was sure all right.

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