Thursdays With Uncle Boom #94

So. Hit me with it and hit me with it straight. Why are you here?

Yaxley, as the man across the desk had introduced himself, regarded me intensely. He was a youthful looking Lifestyle Coach I had managed to get a last minute appointment with.

He seemed a pleasant enough fellow despite having a face like an ulcered scallop.

Well, the truth of the matter, old fellow, is that... Well, I'm going through rather a difficult time.

The young man nodded, his eyes narrowing like an otter's vagina in a hot bath.

I see.

He peered at me and nodded as if for me to continue.

I pulled my pipe out and proceeded to light it up.

Yaxley raised an eyebrow at this but said nothing.

I took a long and languorous inhale. It was a fine baccy - Polly's Dirge. It had an oily feel and a smell that reminded one of brackish dead things coughed up by the sea.

The silence proved to be too much for Yaxley.

The purpose of a session such as this is for you to unburden. Talk, tell me anything and in the process of the telling I will replay elements back to you in a way that challenges any predisposition you may have to the acknowledgement and celebration of self.

He grinned. As would any buffoon that had just spouted such hogwash.

Talk you say. Well, alright then.

I held my pipe loosely in one hand and pulled my hip flask out with the other, taking a long and deep swig before tucking it back inside my jacket.

I am haunted by death. It walks where I walk. Sleeps where I sleep. Takes what I take.

I blew a plume of smoke contemplatively at the ceiling where a large fan rotated slowly with a barely audible hum.

And now the Police are watching me. I can't take a shit without wondering if they are watching it coil out of my arse.

I sighed, my eyes taking in the room.

It limits me somewhat, you understand?

Yaxley remained smiling, unperturbed by my words, in fact something I said seemed to have energised him and he leaned forward, eyes bright and open as if he had been licking a leopard's left tit.

Oh I understand old chap. And you need not worry. This is a safe place. You can talk and unburden yourself here without worrying that we are being watched. This office is safe from all prying eyes and ears!

I smiled.

Splendid. I am actually on my way to the station to make a statement now and I was hoping for a little boost before I go.

Yaxley smiled with me and stood, coming round the desk to perch on my side.

A boost? Of course! It would be a pleasure to assist you. Please stand. Perhaps we should start with some breathing exercises? Have you heard of Wim Hof?

Obediently, I stood, as did Yaxley. His ready smile slipping rapidly from his face he saw the wicked little knife in my hand.

Wim Hof...?

I leapt forward and swiftly plunged the little blade up to the hilt in Yaxley's lower belly and tore it upwards.

His innards flobbered forth, hanging to his knees like a dead, red octopus.

Yaxley yelped then let out a squelching squeak like an old shoe in the rain. He folded to his knees, face a ghastly pale before crumpling slidily into his own gizzards.

I wiped the blade clean on a dry part of Yaxley's coat and sucked at the embers of my still burning pipe.

It was quite remarkable but I did feel somewhat better.

I made my way to the door, a spring in my step. Turning once to look back at Yaxley.

Wim Hof... Is that one of those funny dogs with the pointy ears? No matter, I wouldn't say even if I knew. After all...