Party Time (The Wounded)

Every party has at least one defining moment. At Hannah’s party that moment came when Glen tripped over somebody’s bag, fell against the TV and sliced his cheek open. It must have been the shock (surely not the paltry few ciders he’d drunk) that turned him green and had him swooning like a girl. And so the cry went up,

He’ll need stitches in that!

Is he concussed?

Is he dead?

Who’ll drive him to the hospital?

I will!

Are you phoning an ambulance?

Pardon?

Did somebody hit him?

No!!

Och he’ll be alright. Let’s get him up!

We need bandages! Now!

What?

Where’s the first aid kit?

What?

Can you drive him to the hospital?

Get him up!

Feck! He’s down again. Catch him!

Don’t crowd him!

Sure there’s no need of the hospital. Do you fancy sitting eight hours in Casualty on a Saturday night?

No way!

We need steri-strips. You got steri-strips?

No.

What’s that Glen?

I’m going to no fucking hospital.

Fair enough.

And so we patched his wound up somehow. Jazzer played Nursie and I took photos. Glen said,

I hope you’re not for putting that on the internet.

Sure what odds? Aren’t you moving to Australia?

At the post-party discussions the first question was,

Where were you when Glen went down?

I gather the Kurt Cobain look-alike thought the Pete Doherty look-alike punched Glen to the ground.

I’m told Young Loveheart thought it was a whole lot of fuss about nothing. But then he would.

I hear that when the Pete Doherty look-alike expressed concern about Glen and asked where he was that Ploppy Pants told him we had him hanging by his heels from the banisters because that was the best way to treat a head wound. The Pete Doherty look-alike is supposed to have said, “I don’t think so mate,” and went off to check.

And what of Glen? See for yourself.