"Evens" Book Extract #4

[One of a series of extracts from Leon Blackwell’s sensational autobiography “Evens”. The diary of Old Lynn’s most revered psychopath.]

Pages 200-201

Displaying the videos on the shelves in the front window I almost collided with the door as it swung open to reveal a small, elderly man in the doorway. Soaked with rain, he shook his long black leather coat a little before stepping into the shop. I could tell straight off that he was obviously a fine specimen of the salivating perv (Salivatus Perviticus – look it up), hovering about the female shoe section like so many before him. What do these people think? That just before they walked into the shop, a busload of college girls dropped off all of their unwanted black stiletto boots and plimsolls, fresh from their dainty little doll-like feet. Would these geezers be so eager to feed their fetish if they knew that the only women that frequent this shop are either elderly, infirm, or obese middle-aged harlots with their screaming, disobedient offspring constantly in tow?

“Hello Leon. How are you?” he muttered, grasping what may have been his penis under his coat. I didn’t have a clue who he was, nor how he knew my name, but it turned out Perviticus was “a friend of the family”. At least according to him that is. He immediately began talking about something to do with “influence, consequence and freedom of choice”. Or some pseudo-brainy bullshit. To tell you the truth, I was more concerned about what he was doing under his coat than what he was mumbling on about. The Cod-philosophical ramblings of a shoe fetishist, attempting to justify his perverted behaviour in public, just like any other moron spouting Sade or Brady to suit their twisted tastes. You see them all the time in the shop, I have to say. Two-a-penny. The sheer amount of lonely old men who buy toddlers’ clothes from us is unbelievable, for instance. You just know that they’re rushing home on the bus afterwards, eager to squeeze themselves into a pair of Barbie knickers.

However, this particular perv seemed slightly different to me. Every time I looked straight into his watery, fish-like eyes as he spoke, it gave me a queasy feeling in my gut. God knows why. I’ve seen enough of these geezers in my time. Perhaps I had seen him someplace else before, I dunno. Anyway, on he continued, mentioning he had no problem with others expressing their own philosophies of life, that he encouraged others to live their lives to the full, etc. etc. Like he was some kind of teacher.

“What is your philosophy, Leon?”, he smiled. “Look mate, we have a policy in this shop. I will have to ask you to leave if you’re gonna cause trouble. I don’t need this crap. Want to buy a My Little Pony annual? It has pictures of young girls in it, if you’re interested – you completely obvious and unoriginal perv.” The man in black grinned like the Cheshire Cat, exposing two rows of yellowed enamel tombstones. I knew what he was up to. Trying to make me commit a terrible mistake again. Rile me up until something happened. So I ignored him and sat back down behind the till, refusing to meet his continuous stare.

Salivatus Perviticus then flinched and exited the shop with lightning speed, the door banging softly in his wake.

As soon as he left the premises, the shop turned a crimson shade of red, the walls breathing and sighing. Cracks in the plaster of the ceiling opened up to betray dark red gore and skin. Pulsing and wriggling. I remember thinking at the time that this was going to get much worse before it gets any better.

Leon Blackwell

“Evens” is available from all good bookshops now.
ISBN 1010 2020 1010 0102
£6.99 paperback.