Which will be never - because she’s such a narcissist, she doesn’t know humility and any kindness she receives, she’ll only exploit it to her own ends.
And in Bristol, Mark Plankton has been on Wanky’s bandstand. Imagine it:
Mobile phone ringing for ages…….. Wanky manages to stumble from his drugged up stupor, scramble about for his filthy tracky bottoms, remove phone from pocket and answer -
“Aron, it’s me mate, Billy from the bandstand”
“Who? Who the
duck are you? And why are you ringing me in the middle of the night?”
“We met two weeks ago at the bandstand, you gave me your number and said you would let me into your gang. And, it’s 2.30 in the afternoon, by the way”. (***He slept in today, apparently***)
“What do you want?”
“Well, Mark Plankton is on your bandstand and he’s calling for your hand in solidarity, I think you should come down”
Wanky is
bleeping raging, his nostrils have gone into full flare mode and he’s spitting all over his favourite Boris clown t shirt.
“Listen, you tell that bald headed
bleep to get the
duck off my bandstand and get the
duck out of Bristol. We don’t want him here. He’s a wrong un”
“He says he wants to work with you Aron”
“NO! I don’t want to work with him. He’s a bit cleverer than me and more people listen to him, he’ll make me look a
bleep. Just tell him I’m coming for him with one of my pretend guns. Go and tell him now. I need to get a brew and get off to work. I’ve missed about 5 twattoos”.
Wanky cuts off the call and wanders around his
crappy little bed sit, looking for in date milk and a clean cup, wondering where it all went wrong.