I awoke on my own, was she a dream? No, the bitch had taken all my money and a pair of Adidas Gazelles. I still had two days to go, drastic action was required. I reckon she made of with �60, worth every penny.
The law of the jungle states that animals prey on the weaker species. The babe had rolled me over, it was time to do like wise.
Sitting on the beach outside Emma�s bar I was biding my time and observing Donald Duck. Like an effective hunter I stalked my prey, viewing his dirty homo mannerisms and playing the kill through my mind. Now I'm no homophobe, like I said I've an unhealthy interest in the Beat writers and even Kerouac sucked his best mates cock from time to time but an insolvent drunk needs beer tokens.
I tracked him and his boy to The Windmill Bar. I followed Donald Duck into the toilet and cracked his head on the wall. Whilst he gurgled into the urinal I frisked his pockets and got payback.

I collected my suitcase and checked into the Hotel Rif once a haunt of Winston Churchill's, an upmarket joint with no crass Brits and screaming kids. My room had air conditioning, a mini bar and satellite TV. The Riff attracted a worldly clientele and boasted a pool complete with waterfall and cave.

Sunday...