LEGEND GARY PART TWO

[Shoulders?-Stomach!]

The worst thing there would be about having a daughter, Legend Gary blathers on, would be dealing with the mentsruals. Not up for that at all, the mentsruals.

Er, you have a daughter, Gary. You have a daughter.

[phes]

The worst thing there would be about having a daughter, Legend Gary blathers on, would be dealing with the mentsruals. Not up for that at all, the mentsruals.

Er, you have a daughter, Gary. You have a daughter.

I reckon she's a lezzer though, daz

[Glebe]

"Daz, me granddad's gone missing again!"

"Nah, it's alright Gary. His mobility scooter's outside Ladbrokes."

"Phew."

[Shoulders?-Stomach!]

Legend Gary's bespoke birthday cake spelling HANG ALL PEODOS in giant letters costs £400 but none of the neighbours are invited around to help eat it.

'I'd pay £400 to have it rot in front of them' says the Iago of Staines.

[Kryton]

LEGEND GARY'S little brother (MAD CALLUM) is released from prison after serving a seven year stretch for being in possession of having 'indecent' photographs on his hard drive of middle aged men.

[Shoulders?-Stomach!]

Legend Gary has the message 'Now we've shown we can stand up to the black threat' queued up on his twitter page in advance of the Fury v Wilder fight.

It's been there since January 15th.

[Shoulders?-Stomach!]

Steak Terry reckons you can't smell quim, has no scent even when gone off.

Bollocks mate says LG. Wash for once. You make me look clean.

[Shoulders?-Stomach!]

Legend Gary confirms that coronavirus is nature's way of sorting the weak from the strong. Later on he can't open a jar of pickled eggs so goes to the bedroom for a short cry.

[poo]

Legend Gary proudly admires his new private number plate - C0V1D I9

[Shoulders?-Stomach!]

Legend Gary proudly admires his new private number plate - C0V1D I9

3D printed the cunt. Making £5 a week in pure unmitigated profit money by undercutting these license slags.

[Shoulders?-Stomach!]

Legend Gary's idea for a banter cafe remarkably actually takes off, and due to a few really flukey business decisions and blagging he has earned enough money to become a property developer.

You can fucking learn a lot by watching me, Legend Gary lectures to a sullen Pubes Daz, face all full of McCoy's.

[Glebe]

"They're coming over from Um Bongo Land, Daz. They're coming over from Um Bongo Land."

Daz pretends to be asleep.

[Glebe]

"Watcha doin', Gary?"

"I'm watching the first harry potters film Daz! Its fantastic! I never knew they were this magical!"

"Heh... I'll pop the kettle on and get the ginger nuts!"

"I'd prefer jaffa cakes, Daz... if that's alright?"

"Of course, Gary lad! Now you just enjoy the movie... I'll be back in a minute."

"Thanks Daz! This is great!"

[Shoulders?-Stomach!]

Legend Gary calls a unicyclist a 'chancer' who needs to 'fuck up'

[wosl]

'And them,' he says, as someone goes past on a normal bike.  Every cyclist is a nuisance to Legend Gary, Sir Bradley of Wigginshire excepted.  Brad's sound as.  RAF circles on the helmet, Weller haircut, mad shoes hand-crafted from fucking military grade asbestos OUT THE ROAD NATT-AH

[Glebe]

Gary and Daz spend the evening throwing Tesco blue tokens at cats.

[Shoulders?-Stomach!]

Gary and Daz spend the evening throwing Tesco blue tokens at cats.

Gary: I say spend, invest is more fitting.

[Glebe]

Gary and Daz are in the precinct smashing bottles.

"Fuck Daz, I'm supposed to be home mindin' the babie! My Shirl is gunna kill me!"

"Must be hard being a responsible adult, Gary."

"Yeah Daz. Yeah. Fancy a 99?"

[ToneLa]

Gary whips out the marker pen and doodles some graffito on the shithouse wall in the local.

MY NAME IS DAZ AND I AM HIV

He etches Daz's number just below. Haha, sweaty cunt!

--

Daz's blower rings. Gary, sitting across with a San Miguel with a vodka top, smirks like fuck

"Ello? Oh yeah this is he. Aw, thanks pal! Yeah there right now mate. Oh? That's very nice!"

Daz looks round and waves and another lad on his blower waves back, gives a thumbs up, and orders a Stella for Daz. "Brave soldier", says the lad as he plonks the gratis beverage down, slapping Daz on the back. "You brave, brave soldier."

Daz beams and barely has time to glug a gobful when the phone rings again!

"Ello? Yeah I'm Daz. In the Dog n Duck right now, pal. Yeah! I see you!"

Bish bash bosh, another pint and another hearty slap on the back. "You dear, sweet man," sniffles the brick shithouse.

Gary's not having it. "Fucks all this? Did you reactivate that Grinder profile I made for ya?"

Daz laughs good naturedly. "Weirdest thing pal, these lads reckon I'm HIV. Heard it here in fact! Sound cunts the both, free bevvies for being brave."

Gary takes a few minutes to mull this over. His eyes light up, he stands and to the boozers assembled announces:

"I AM LEGEND GARY AND I HAVE FULL BLOWN AIDS. WHO HERE WILL SHAKE MY HAND?"

.... eyes cast downwards all around. A tumbleweed fucks on by. A nervous cough, and the landlord comes over.

"Sorry Gaz, going to have to ask you to leave. Can't have you breathing AIDS on the other punters. Please, you take care mate."

"what? But I just made it up for free drinks!"

The pub stares, mortified. The landlord's son Tiny appears, and spells O. U. T. 

... Legend Gary looks sadly through the window, Daz with all his new friends. A tidy bird even gives him a kiss on the cheek.

Gary thinks, Gary fumes.
Fuckin HIV cunt laughing it up. Joke's on you Daz cunt, your time is up, shit-for-blood

... Aw, fuck, hang on a minute

[Shoulders?-Stomach!]

Legend Gary starts wanking over his own knob before thinking 'bit gay this actually'.

[wosl]

Legend Gary develops foreign accent syndrome after sustaining a twat to the head while trying to snog the cenotaph, and starts saying everything using the voice and mannerisms of Arsene Wenger.

[ToneLa]

Gar describes to Soft Ted how he full-on banged that disabled bird. Wheelbarrowed her, fuckin threw her right about, gobbing on her puckered anus for lube, balanced her on his cock and spun her like a fucked turntable

"Please mate," pleads Soft Ted. "I'm trying to eat Malteasers here. Can't you think of a nice euphemism for all this?"

"Like fucking what? I fucked her arse, mouth and cunt and not in that order and wiped the shit on her curtains. The fuck kind of nickname could you do for that Soft Ted? I'm fuckin hard mate, fuckin wild that,if she could've walked before she sure couldn't now! There's NO FUCKING WAY you could boil all that down to a little nickname".

Soft Ted ponders a minute. "Umm.. poetry in motion?"

Leg Gar's eyes light up.

"That's... fuckin amazing, mate. That's exactly what it was.
Poetry. In. Motion."

[Shoulders?-Stomach!]

After taking the news of having subnormal quantities of neural pathways pretty bad, Gary tells the doctor 'at least he knows the neural pathway to the nearest shag'.

Later on he calls a Georgian with a shiny bald pate a rag head.

[ToneLa]

Gary rings his dealer and asks for 3 bag fentanyl.

"Wot? I can handle it. Don't cut it wiv no crap."

[ToneLa]

"Go on Gary, do it mate!" Daz urges, lightly shoving his pal stagewards. "You'll boss this open mic night!!"

The Legendary Crew™ cheer as their hero takes the stage. Gary gingerly takes the battered acoustic - he's no player really, and he takes a few moments to form open G, and gives it a little strum. It's weak - he's not putting much tension on the strings - but it's plenty rich and it'll do. He swaps to form open A, slowly, then back. He alternates between them a rudimentary but enjoyable rhythm, and the crowd clap along as it finds its pace.

Gary nervously cranes into the mic:

"Soz to be all soppy but this one goes out to the ladyfolk. (WWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!) I wouldn't say it's a love song but.... how I feel about women is one thing I'm very sure about"

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! GO ON LAD!!

Gary clears his voice, which is surprisingly strong and sonorous from all the calling Daz a fucking cunt every day for the past nineteen.

"I really love the women folk.
They look so kind and gentle
And when you get to know them all...."

The cheers are deafening, but Gary croons the last line like Sinatra on a 'lude.

"You find out they're all fuckin' mental."

Stunned silence. Daz claps, and a few join him. It swells until the entirety of the Dog 'n' Bucket is swinging and singing Gary's name. As it should rightly be.

"Wait a minute," Gary says, coming back to the mic. He has to wait thirty seconds for the whoops to die down. "No cunt threw her knickers up?"

[ToneLa]

Gary's in the Queen's Cock and suddenly sneezes and oh that was a wetty!

He notices some auld cunt on the next table gives him a dirty look, stands up and moves to another pew. What the fuck?

"Must be that virus thing Gaz," Daz enlightens. "He looks well nervous!"

Gary processes this, but the follow up sneeze is coming on. The queue at the bar is five deep too. "That right Daz? They all para about it?"

"Too right Ga-"

Suddenly Gary has leapt up, run into the crowd at the bar, and erupted into a huge, wet sneeze. The crowd disperses a little. Gary pipes up,

"FUCKING HELL. EVER SINCE I GOT BACK FROM CHINA I'VE BEEN SNEEZING MY HEAD OFF."

The crowd stampedes, and Gary is alone at the bar. No staff either, but a small price to pay for such a successful jape.

Magic FM.

[Glebe]

Gery drops a Lucozade bottle on the bus.

[Shoulders?-Stomach!]

Legend Gary gets a selfie with Burger Barry.

'Best moment of 2020 hands down'

Contracting a 48 hour colorectal situation was easily worth it just to meet him.

#twolegends

[Glebe]

"Are you a 'horsey' person, Gary?"

"I am indeed yes, Daz! I enjoy riding with Tarquin and Cressida of a weekend!"

[wosl]

In the middle of a dispute with Daz about the 'legend rating' of Reinhold Messner, Legend Gary abruptly sets off to try and become the first cunt to solo the Eiger-Nordwand wearing a Brentford top, shorts, and Gazelles with no socks.