The Young and Very Naughty Boys

By AT Davidson

‘. . . Then Miguel gets his knife out and they start dancin’ around each other, you know: flingin’ themselves upwards from the ground and kind of leapin’ up real high . . . Gee, it was horrible.’

The nineteen sixties is a time of leather jackets, cuffed baggy jeans and greasy pompadours.
When a gang member is killed, it’s up to investigating officer Murdoch to bring the perpetrator to justice.

This satirical story is written in the tradition of B-Grade stories, complete with all the stereotypes, creativity and effects – flaws and all.
The characters are purely fictitious. Any similarities with any person, living or dead, are entirely coincidental.
The story is not meant to offend. If you may be offended, please don’t download it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AT Davidson
• Release date: Dec 26, 2014

Book preview

The Young

And Very Naughty

Boys

The Young and Very Naughty Boys

Text copyright (C) AT Davidson 2002

Smashwords edition (C) 2014

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This satirical story is written in the tradition of B-Grade stories, complete with all the stereotypes, creativity and effects – flaws and all.

The characters are purely fictitious. Any similarities with any person, living or dead, are entirely coincidental.

The story is not meant to offend. If you feel offended, please don’t download it, or delete it from your system.

We only see the very last of the overlaid white letters. It is as though we have been weeping. The vision is blurred, but we know all too well where we are. It is the black and white world of . . . Wait a minute! Now there is a car that is most definitely not of nineteen-forties vintage, or of the decade following. It seems to be a nineteen sixty Plymouth. We can’t see too clearly as it is night. In the early nineteen-sixties the world was still black and white (although a somehow crisper black and white). We know this from our old junior school photos of that era. We are feeling pretty good now. Time is moving along nicely. Perhaps we need never venture into the forties and fifties again? God, perhaps we will either fall asleep or get away from this place? We see the streets are wet. It has either been raining or the D.M.S.L.A.T.I.H.J.R (Department for Making Streets Look As Though It Has Just Rained) has been by recently. We see a group of five tall people silhouetted against the backdrop swagger towards us. It seems as though they all have their thumbs hitched into their belts. As they draw closer, we see that they wear leather jackets, cuffed baggy jeans and that they are not really as tall as we thought. They all wear their hair in high, greasy pompadours. Some smoke. Others don’t. One punches the arm of another and he then flinches and takes a swing back. The original aggressor ducks and pulls a length of chain attached to his belt and which is stowed in the inside pocket of his jacket. He swings it at his victim relentlessly, beating him about the head and shoulders. His victim falls, and when we see him in close up, we see that his face, chest and mouth are bleeding. The other three look on and chuckle, one for longer than the others. This one's name is Chuckles. The man who has just assaulted the fellow (who is Jerry, his best friend) is called Johnny. His real name is Paul (he is just called Johnny). The other two are Mike and Lester. We believe that these fellows are a street gang of the early sixties. They are outsiders, rebels without, because. They are cheap punks and when they address an older person, they call him