Clyde's Story XV: Welcome to the Neighborhood

[BaronVonGott]

Clyde: Now where did everyone run off to? Damn it, Dylan. I didn't expect him to run for the hills, just get out of the apartment and get to safety. ???: (Whistles) Oi! Over here! Hey, you!

Clyde: Oh, good. That must be them. Where the hell have you guys been? Oh. You're not one of my friends. I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else.

Toad: Oh? We ain't your mates? That's not very neighborly is it? You're walkin' through our turf, and you ain't paid the toll. Ain't that right, Punky? Punky: Right, Toad. This bloke strikes me as a rather rude little wanker, isn't he?

Punky: This is OUR block, mate. And trespassers gotta pay a toll. Clyde: A toll? For walking through the alley? Who the hell are you people? Toad: I'm Toad, and this is me tart, Punky. And you're trespassin' on our turf!

Clyde: I'm sorry, "tart"? She's a prostitute? Are you her pimp? Punky: PROSTITUTE! Are you takin' the piss? Do I look like some daft trollop to you, mate? I'm about to be jolly cross with you in a minute! Toad: You insultin' me bird, mate? Now the toll just got higher. Consider it a tax for bein' a daft pillock!

Clyde: Look, maybe we got off on the wrong foot. I'm just looking for my frie- Toad: Shut up, wanker! You owe us a toll! You can start with whatever cash and valuables you got on you. Punky: Oh, I quite like that necklace he's got. And that spaceman jacket ain't bad neither. Toad: What size boots do you wear, mate? I could use a new pair meself.

Clyde: I'm not giving you anything, except maybe a thorough ass kicking if you don't leave me alone. Look, guys. I've had a really rare morning involving a rusty hammer and a Ukrainian and I'm not in the mood for this. Punky: Not in the mood? You bloody Americans are dense ain't you? We're robbin' you, ya silly bastard! Now give us your jacket and wallet before I lose me temper!

Clyde: Look, I'd love to stick around and play Charles Dickens with you two, but I'm kind of busy. Maybe some other time.

Toad: Charles Dickens? Oh, that is it, mate! We was just goin' to rob ya and rough you up a bit, but now you crossed the line! (Whistles) Oi! Bruiser! Get over ere, mate! We got an bloody daft yank that needs to be taught some respect! Come out here and educate this bloke! Clyde: Bruiser?

Bruiser: (grunting) Clyde: Oh, hell. I think I'm in trouble.

Next: The Alley