Gaz: The brother’s not quite a Ray of sunshine

by Gazette Reporter
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“Would ye look at the heads on the pair of them.
“I wouldn’t trust either of them to run a bath, never mind run a bleedin’ country.”

The brother has staged his own silent coup since he came over and has managed to commandeer the remote control. For some reason, he uses a different mug for every cup of tea he has. I’m fairly certain that reason is that he doesn’t know how to wash a cup because there was a line of used ones lined up beside his booted feet on the coffee table.

Now, I’m not exactly Mr Homemaker or anything but I like a degree of tidiness around the place but that’s gone out the window since Ray arrived over.

I wandered into the kitchen while he was still roaring at the telly and found a stack of teabags sitting in the sink, dirty plates stacked high bedside the sink and three knives slathered with jam and butter wedged to the kitchen counter.

“Any chance you could bring your butler over with ye next time, Ray?” I roar at him from the kitchen.

“Wha’?” he says.
“I can’t hear ye.”

It’s difficult to hear anyone talking to you when you’ve got the volume of the telly up full whack.

“I was asking if ye could bring your butler over with ye next time ye come over,” I says, walking back into the living room.
“So he can take care of the trail of mess you leave in your wake.”

“Ah lay off me Gaz,” he says, throwing his eyes up to Heaven. “I’m on me holidays. Herself is forever on me case at home to clean up after me. I just need to let loose a bit.”

“There’s other reasons to tidy up after yourself apart from people getting on at you to do it, Ray,” I says to him. “Ye know, like not wanting to live in filth. That sort of thing.”
At this, he bristles and purses his lips and narrows his eyes like he’d do when we were young fellas.

“Would ye give over,” he exhales the words more than says them, all exasperated as if I’m asking him to give me a kidney or something. I’ll sort it all out in a few minutes. I’ve been watching these pair of head the balls on the news here. I can’t work out which one of them is worse. I can’t even work out which haircut is worse. How could either of them be in charge of country, never mind the two of them.”

“Well one lost a popular vote but got in because of a mad voting system that no one really understands and the other fella is basically there because of a serious case of nepotism,” I says to him.

“Jaysus,” he says. “I still can’t get me head around it. They were saying Trump has a fella going round taping all his memos back together because he keeps ripping them up even though he’s not supposed to.

“That’s hardly a job for someone to be doing.
“It must be like picking up after a child.”

“You’re not familiar with irony, are ye Ray?” I says to him.

“Ah here, now you’re going too far,” he bellows at me.
“I said I’d wash me dishes but I’m not doing your ironing.”

I give up.

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