The Real Yo

geetanjal-khanna-81242-unsplashIt was only two weeks ago.

Shrek- the alias for this gangsta- was cursing his demons as his new BMW had been kept at the mechanic’s for another three days. Heat wave in London. Bus packed with stupid people wearing jackets in the city oasis. He wished he was the driver, sat comfortably at the wheel puffing the air conditioning. This lucky kid was going to drive all day, with no-one to disturb his blimin’ peace, and Shrek needed to get to Brixton Prison to visit that slave who messed up. Not to pay him his respects, but just to make sure he was going to keep his mouth shut.

On top of all, there was traffic, and a chubby fellow eating smelly curry.

How long until Brixton?!

The ganster was watching the traffic lights and trying to hypnotise them with rap rhymes in his head for them to turn green. “The Traffic light is giving way – I’m the Shrek and you all wait”.

Suddently the engines stopped and a young sophisticated woman broke the awkward silence.

“If you keep on staring at my toddler he won’t be able to direct the bottle to his mouth properly”.

The lady was bullying Nisha, a 24-year-old fallen star who was on a wheelchair after being given the wrong medicine in Bali, when on her Gap year. She had lost two limbs and was only surrounded by the very wrong people.

The fallen star, a mysterious dark self-controlled beauty about to explode like a mine, had abandoned her fate to Chaos’ will and only hoped her Aunt, a neurotic spinster who wanted to get credit for looking after her, would woman up and stop abusing her in public.

At this stranger’s provocation, Nisha casually said “If the bottle were filled with organic, non gluten, fair trade disgusting worms, the bloody baby would get a grip'”.

The grey Aunt stepped in “Sorry madame, but let me tell you my niece has lost it since she lost her legs, but she’s harmless, don’t worry.”

Shrek had witnessed the whole scene and his blood was pumping. Something ticked in his head. He efficiently pushed aside the old man standing on his way to the wheelchair and pram area, and took a deep breathe. Everybody was watching him.

“YOU!” he snapped. Nisha looked at him. A second and a half of eye-contact made Shrek’s unlawful life flash like a dart. She didn’t smile. Because her eyes were smiling. This was going to be the most important red carpet rolled ahead of her in her whole life.

“You two missis don’t speak to my friend no-more, and you posh lollipop fold your pram and remember to take the baby out first if you don’t want to breastfeed him with crack next time.”

People on the bus clapped around. The bus driver was watching on the CCTV and was too distracted to carry on at the green light. Cars were impatiently beeping.

 

Nisha still didn’t smile. Her eyes had the power. She had the power. Shrek was sure  a hot biscuit, and she wished she could take off his T-Shirt and see what was underneath.

 

“My name is Shrek, but you can call me Donnie, like no-one has called me since six years. Tell me now, where are you going? I’ll take you my Princess! We got all the time in the world! It’s a new beginning.

 

“Not so fast, Shrek” said Nisha. People on Bus 2 were laughing now, and he noticed a couple were recording the scene with their smartphones. “I wanna go to the Aquarium and feed this woman to the Sharks”. She pointed at her Aunt.

Shrek took a stash of cash from his pocket and handed it to the grey lady, who almost dripped saliva at the sight of it. “This is your late pay for looking after my Princess all this time. Now you go find me on Instagram, ShrekBiteTheAir and tell all her folks she’s not putting up with your crap anymore. And they better come visit everyday. Driver! To the Aquarium please!”

And as passengers cheered and some had tears in their eyes, the driver managed a C-turn, almost a U-turn to The Aquarium.

 

*     *     *

 

The night of the events was a guilty narration of Shrek and Nisha’s life, dotted with jokes among tears here and there. When Shrek told her he had been bullied and abused by his boxing trainer during the whole of his teens, and she refused to give him the pity look- the weight that flew off his shoulders came back to him like a dragon with wings, filling him with love, forgiveness, motivation, and a “I wanna to this thing and this thing and nobody ain’t stopping me now.”

“Do you wanna delete Alfred, Smurk, Hancuffer and Bigtits numbers before we get another Johnny Walker?”

“Yes my Princess, I’ll delete them even from my Soul but we ain’t getting any more Johnny Walkers. We got to get up early tomorrow cos it’s our new life. Early Bird Catch the Fish!”

 

“That’s right Donnie! Do I get a good night kiss?”

 

The End.

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Author: sandrasimagination

I grew up reading books, taking dancing lessons and in a way looking for trouble! My Big Dream came true at age 29. Having broad life and work experience, I am comfortable in my shoes and wild in my imagination, which I share here and in my Books and Art. Updating on average every week, so keep checking out!

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