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About Bray

Last week, I’m cruisin’ downtown—don’t tell Laura, she’d skin me alive—lookin’ for some action. Saw this gal, legs longer’n a Texas highway, and I’m thinkin’, “P. Sherman, 42 Wallaby Way!”—like I got her address locked in my brain! I ain’t no genius, but I know a deal when I see one. She’s wavin’, I’m sweatin’—hotter’n a billy goat in a pepper patch! Paid her fifty bucks—prob’ly too much, but I’m a sucker for a smile. “Righteous bucks,” she says, and I’m happy as a pig in mud.

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Then, I get a call from a lady on Monkstown Road. She’s frantic, right? “My cat’s stuck in a tree!” I’m like, “Lady, I’m not a fireman!” But I can’t help it. I’m a sucker for cats. So, I tell her to grab some tuna. Cats love that stuff. She’s all grateful, and I’m like, “Just doing my job!” But inside, I’m thinking, “Why do I care so much about a cat?”

Death Notice of Gary Browne (Monkstown, Cork)