TLP: The adventures, atrocities and awakening of Barry Giggles

By Lachlan Fyfe

Barry Giggles has it made. He has everything anyone could want: a ‘castle’ in Bondi, Australia; good looks to go with his great body (if you ask Barry, he’s the definition of attractive); plenty of cash to help him live off weed and booze at home; and plenty of time for the gym where he does most of his ‘fishing’. He lives a fast and crazy lifestyle with women on speed dial.

Life is perfect. Or is it?

Sometimes the picture you’re looking at is perceived differently by others. Especially when you’ve got a brain injury thanks to a coward’s punch.

When Barry finally sees himself from his friends’ point of view, what will he do?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tellwell Talent
• Release date: Sep 19, 2022
• ISBN: 9781922812971

Lachlan Fyfe

Lachlan Fyfe was an up-and-coming jockey when he endured a traumatic brain injury (TBI) at the age of 23. After this major life-changing event, he doubted himself a lot. From being 'in the prime of his life' he was suddenly now labelled as 'disabled'. However, Lachlan appreciates he thinks differently to others, has capitalised on his ingenuity and will no longer allow his 58% whole person impairment to stop him from doing things. ​Despite his TBI and getting a 'D' in English at school, Lachlan wrote TLP on his smartphone in two months and polished it over three years, being the oddball perfectionist he is. He wants to revolutionise the mobile phone industry and is working on a concept involving magnets to create environmentally friendly energy, among other ideas.This may be the first you've heard of Lachlan Fyfe, but it won't be the last!

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Everyone’s life is a story, we’re writing ours as we speak. The first few chapters in life are shaped by our parents or guardians. When we’re old enough, our mind starts making decisions for itself. Our actions will have positive or negative consequences for ourselves and others and help create a direction in life.

It’s not possible for anyone to predict the future, although everyone can make it – starting with a plan.

Word Count

Chapter 1

‘I don’t know what I am going to do, you know I don’t plan things. Sometimes to reach a dream you must chase it. When chased, a story is created. If you reach your dream, the story you created is a part of that dream. It’s time I created my story.’

Six months earlier

I am in a pickle.

I am living amongst serenity. Backpackers, boobs and bongs are a daily ritual.

A European voice yells out, ‘Pull, pull, pull! Yayaaaaaa! LP is in da hoooouuse!’

LP is me, Barry Giggles, and I just pulled a cheeky bong stronger than an industrial vacuum cleaner.

LP is what people call me, it’s short for ‘Little Player’. It was created at a mad party I had two or three months ago. Cannot remember anything about it; would have been a ladies’ man as usual. I tend to make the female wet. Don’t ask me how I do it, it’s a gift I train hard to keep.

One thing I’m proud of is my hair, it is split directly down the middle and washed every day. Sometimes I stare at myself in the mirror and wonder how I can improve but I can’t, I’m perfect.

I’m a 30-year-old trendsetter. I wear white, long socks covering my calf muscles, always. I look after myself in detail. Barry Giggles is certainly not below other people; I consider myself to be top shelf.

I don’t have a lesser half, I’m just your regular player. Little comes from my height. I’m five foot five in the old language, just short of six foot. Yes, growing up everyone had their giggle about my last name but now I have made it, the laugh is on them because at this present time … I’m face first on the table with a lighter in one hand, bong in the other. Wow, what a night it must have been! Classic situation of getting on it with the boys then dropping quicker than a poor man’s paycheque.

It’s now daytime – I can hear the waves crashing and the seagulls fighting over chips.

Bondi, Australia, or ‘Brondi’ people are calling it these days, is full of Brazilians having a good time. I’m one of the locals. I used to surf a lot, I don’t now.

What happened to me last night? I don’t know, another victory. Great times were had by all, I forget mine. Alcohol captures your consciousness and causes dementia. All the time I’m getting myself wasted. I throw mad parties that are flooded with women. Don’t ask me how I do it, I’m just your regular player.

Jimmy Rockhard (yes, that’s his real name) is my right-hand man. I met him working on my abs at the local gymnasium. I let him move in. He helps organise the parties, lures the women and makes them pre-gasm with his last name. He helps me get so drunk and high I ooze confidence. Him and I are like chalk and cheese except we’re both white. Jimmy has amazing eyes, bone structure and is armed with highly illegal weapons – his guns.

The muscles males like to show off are the biceps, or ‘rocks’, as Jimmy likes to call them. They’re not common rocks. Jimmy walks into jewellery stores and asks to see the best diamond ring they have. Once he’s allowed to hold it, he puts it against his bicep and demands an answer. ‘What appears to be more cut, my rock or this pathetic diamond ring? You tell me.’

He looks the saleslady straight in the eyes, raises the arm straight up, winks, and drops the ring on the counter; it doesn’t deserve to be in his hand.

‘We’re not at a concert Jimmy, it’s not a microphone, you can’t drop it like that.’ He just turns and winks at me.

Whenever Jimmy wants to get out of a conversation, he winks. I’m not sure whether it’s his full stop to the conversation or if he’s flirting.

I think Jimmy’s banned from every jewellery store within a fifty-kilometre radius.

‘I think it’s completely up to the public how much they spend on a ring, Jimmy.’

‘No, it’s not. Don’t you get it, Barry? People don’t need to get married in the first place; they don’t need to waste stupid amounts of money on something to tell everyone else they’re taken.’

‘I think it’s pretty important, Jimmy.’

‘You’re right, it is important, it could have paid for your future divorce,’ he says, directing it at me in an angry tone.

I take a step back. ‘Jimmy calm down, I have no plans of getting married.’ I drop my head and glance at Jimmy. ‘Anytime soon that is.’ I try winking to Jimmy this time.

He shakes his head and smiles. ‘There is only one LP like you on this planet.’

‘I know what I’m worth, Jimmy.’ A fist pump follows. I look around the room. Can anybody see me glowing?

I think Jimmy winks to get out of a conversation and I take advantage of it whenever I can. I will pretend he’s forgotten something, ask how the weather is, compliment him with a question or start a conversation about nothing. I like to see how many times I can make him wink; my record’s eight.

That day was hilarious, wink after wink. He realised what I was doing and slammed the door on his way out.

Barry 1, Jimmy 0.

It works for him and drives me mental. Every time Jimmy winks one eye it looks exceptional. Females typically play with their hair, send all sorts of signals back saying ‘Take off my underwear’.

I have tried this winking on a few occasions. Females screw their faces up, questioning whether I am trying to wink or whether I have a disabled twitch. Jimmy winks at men, too. I question myself as to whether he’s queer. Every time he winks at me, I shake my head. ‘I’m not gay, Jimmy.’

He giggles and looks at me. ‘How about we stop crossing our legs in public so much, LP?’

I feel belittled. ‘I only do that when I’m wearing my high-end polo shirt with the collar up.’

‘Are you imitating Foggy?’

‘No, I’m going for that look that says I’m better than you.’ All Jimmy does is continue to smile. ‘You’re pissing me off now, Jimmy, stop it.’

‘Got you again, mate! Foggy is a harmless hulk anyhow, you don’t want to be like him. Come on, let’s get out of here, muscles have to be burnt.’

Jimmy is someone that doesn’t get on anyone’s nerves. It’s Jimmy, everybody loves Jimmy.

What does Jimmy love? Tennis balls – it’s got to be a brand name if he’s going to play a serious game of handball. He will bounce the ball on the way to the gym and back home. Through the shops and at the bus stop, it never leaves him. ‘Man, I was good, really good.’

Jimmy loves telling everyone how good him and Kyle were at handball. It doesn’t matter he’s a fully grown man, he loves boasting about it. Kyle is Jimmy’s older brother, together they both ruled high school. Kyle and Jimmy used to wear mullets that made the fish jealous.

Jimmy’s the guy who will jog, build up a sweat and tap you on the shoulder to point out ‘You left this behind’. He decides on how much cash he can clutch from the lost purse (his fair share for being a Good Samaritan).

He stops Barbara, an elderly lady with a white summer dress and a pearl necklace to match. She’s from the northern beaches in Sydney, the area is her family. Every single person within distance lives in a luxurious ant’s nest, and they all serve Queen Barbara.

‘Ma’am, you dropped your wallet.’

Barbara gives Jimmy a filthy look – a ‘What the fuck are you doing with my purse?’ look. She thanks Jimmy but snatches her moneybag off him. Barbara looks him up and down, the sour look on her face saying, ‘I never want to see you again.’ Then she turns and walks off into the distance, back to her nest, the Queen’s residence.

Courtney Maratski is Jimmy’s better half. She is a beautiful girl from Manila, the Philippines. Her father is Australian and her mother is Filipina. She spends the majority of her time here but will often visit family in her homeland.

When two different cultures breed, you normally get one very original offspring. Courtney is proof of this. I don’t know her age – she has a temper so I’m not willing to ask. She’s mature, maybe 30?

Jimmy doesn’t care if they get married, they’re perfect together without proving to everyone else they love each other. I let him and Courtney have a room at my place. He motivates me to work out and not smoke so many bongs.

During the day with nothing else to do, Courtney plays the guitar. She has a very soft, angelic voice. Her inspiration is pop music. I wish she played more soul music but that’s her choice unfortunately. Sometimes she doesn’t sound good so I let her know – it’s a form of inspiration to lift her game. This is Courtney’s halfway house – she spends a lot of time working late, very late. Some might say she works extremely early. Either way, night-time is still night-time.

Jimmy has a habit of undressing women with his eyes. Courtney doesn’t care. She puts up with it and will capitalise on her incredible looks to make women scurry in a hurry. She doesn’t have to worry, and she knows it. Courtney is like a playful little kitten, but when provoked she turns into a lioness.

Girls at the gym know Jimmy is taken, but flirt when Courtney’s not around. It’s annoying, they act like high school virgins. They laugh at the stupidest things, like, ‘Oh my God, I forgot my water!’, ‘You’re a silly duffer, hehe’ – anything to attract Jimmy’s attention.

It must be training for when I give them the chance to sit down with me. I’m not really searching for an equal. There aren’t going to be many in my league. I don’t care about much, I’ve made it. I’m regularly high and always happy.

Courtney and Jimmy have a lot of friends. It makes my job contacting everyone a lot easier. I don’t have a lot of friends, mainly acquaintances. I got sick of calling everyone, everyone calls me now. People just rock up to my crib because I throw the maddest parties. People start lining up down the street. I do have a bouncer who keeps the lower classes out, I suppose Foggy is good for something.

The name of my pad changes all the time. ‘The Bondi on Bondi’, ‘Backpackers on Bondi’, ‘Boozed up Bondi’, ‘Boobs on Bondi’, ‘Bongs on Bondi’, ‘The Boys on Bondi’, ‘Bondi Beach Bums’, ‘Bondiholics Anonymous’ or ‘Bondippino’, which is what Courtney calls it.

There’s an event once every month I created all by myself, it’s called ‘The shirtless free entry on Bondi’. I normally only ever get one visitor – ‘Wannabe Wendy’ – a hard-working curly haired girl from Longreach in Queensland, outback Australia. She’s a little chubby but her enormous boobs draw the attention. She has a heart of gold – she’s a nurse at the local children’s hospital and is trying to make it in the big smoke as an actress.

I like to make Wendy think. Every time she thinks too hard, she scratches her head – it’s hilarious. ‘Wendy, I know you’re from Longreach but what is the slogan again? Is it, Longreach, the reach that’s Long or Longreach, it’s not small to reach? I cannot remember.’

Winner! There she goes again scratching that head. I treat Wendy as one of the boys. I think she wants me, but who doesn’t?

Entry to my highly anticipated monthly event is 9 pm. Wannabe Wendy is the first one in line. She’s the only girl ever in line. Sometimes she brings friends who are not in her league. I feel it brings me down four levels out of five on the social scene. I hate unsightly people posting photos of themselves in my castle. Sometimes I let Wendy in to give me a head job if I don’t feel like masturbating. I like to keep a good balance with my ladies, a player always does.

I live high up on a hill overlooking the water. It’s not bad – has a pool, spa, wine cellar, ladies, bongs and everything else on Bondi. I purchased it when I got paid a little money from being coward-punched in the back of the head. My head whiplashed on the concrete when I fell. Doctors believed I wouldn’t wake from my coma, but I did. Thankfully I don’t feel any pain. The only pain I get is mental when I run out of marijuana.

The negatives are my short-term memory is gone, I limp, drool sometimes, repeat myself and my actions are super slow while high. I don’t care, it’s made me realise how privileged I am. My soul has been given a human brain, a very elective, humble one. It is by far the most powerful thing anyone owns. People underestimate stress; that’s why I smoke so much. I become Blissful Barry.

Lucky no one else was punched, my payout would have decreased fifty percent! I had given some curry to a footy fan after a league game finished, some harmless banter – ‘These kids need counselling’ – that sort of thing.

It was fun for me. I don’t know why this chap got so angry. It’s not my fault he had his life savings on the losing team to win. They were one point behind, the captain missed the conversion, it hit the post and the final siren sounded. The caller couldn’t believe it – a conversion would have got them into the semi-final.

After the game I was legless. I was by myself, and the losing punter stalked me all the way to the cab rank. I was texting when I felt something hit me in the back of the head. I cannot remember anything after that. Life’s life and this