[Rudy goes out in hall] Have you got any change for the vending machine?
Just... fuck off! [Runs away] No, no... don't touch me! Don't touch me! Fuck off! Fucking fuckers!
[Walking out onto rooftop] Are you okay?
I was 13. I'd just come in from school, so... I poured myself a nice, cold, nourishing glass of milk. Head into the lounge to watch ]][[w:Blue Peter|Blue Peter, good, wholesome family entertainment. I open the door... and I see my dad. And he is just... he's just fucking the hell out of my mum. Faces all, like, contorted, like that. Like a wild animal. She was dressed like a cheerleader. Little skirt... pompoms, everything.
Is that it?
Whoa!
That image haunted me all the way through puberty. I can't even sit down and have a relaxing wank without it popping into my head. Every time I shut my eyes. It scarred me. It scarred me. You know some people are scared of clowns? For me, it's cheerleaders.
No one's scared of clowns.
It's called coulrophobia.
Yeah, well, so, imagine your dad is dressed as a clown and he's... fucking your mum, like that.
Why would my dad be dressed as a clown?
Well, I don't know what he gets up to in the privacy of his own home, sick pervert, do I? Fucking cheerleaders, man. ooh, fuck.
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