Chapter 67
He’d already pegged Thommo as bigoted and somewhat stupid. Trevor was thinking of slotting Pete into the cute but clueless category.
As they processed down the hall, Trevor spied their buttocks. Thommo’s were fat and flabby. Pete’s held distinct possibilities however. High, tight, and the guy was wearing a pair of jeans which he must have had to grease himself to get into. Down, boy Trevor said, giving himself a severe talking to.
* * * *
It had been a long time since Trevor had enjoyed himself so much. Homophobe baiting was a much under-rated sport. As he’d suspected, Thommo was all mouth and no action. He was also rather out of shape. Trevor, though not an expert on the game of cricket, wondered how someone in such poor shape managed to maintain a place on the team.
“If you two would lift the sideboard and put it over there,” Trevor pointed, “then we can begin rolling up the carpet.”
“Sure, mate,” Pete said.