Famous Halal Meat Shop
Digital film
99 seconds

Famous halal meat shop. Business is good, business is fine. I like this life. OK, so *** Action! *** fame, and success, and all the rest of it. She doesn’t want to be on camera and then there’s a bang on the window – “It’s fuckin’ disgusting! Sort those bins out will you”. Very cheap (the butchers), and them blue wheelie bins. Yeah. It’s disgusting.

Push to open, the treasure hunt, the treasure chest is closed, we push it open at the end, there, inside the tank is the gold, shot of the open chest, there’s loads of gold. Drifting again, slightly, but I gotta get this done, this writing. Dad’s car, 2 buckled wheels, tugs along. Battered sausage and chips, and that tornado. They was working down Spark Hill, jumping through windows fucking birds. never seen a white cock before. big, built like a brick house. he was a bricky. and his missus was mint. fine. Get sorted, “deal with the problem straight away. dont let it…”. Punch a guy out – at the pub. knock im out and turn round n get back to talking at the bar with a pint. 

The drifters, the lazy man, back to Spark Hill. Elephants for peanuts, monkeys in the circus. My taxi driver went to Tunisia and slept in the village. The people said to him “why don’t you want to stay in a hotel?” He ate the best bread he’d ever tasted. You go to Greggs. Not like that. “I couldn’t do that trip anymore because i have a beard. Id get shot. Plus im too old.” But why did you come back?……………. “Missed my mum bro.”………. “Fair enough.” 8 years is a long time. 

PHONE RINGS. Ring, ring, ring, hoop, hoop, hoop, ring, ring, ring, hoop, hoop, hoop. Dont call the police, they come round, file a report, do nothing, if your house gets burgled, that’s it, unless ur lucky. Half decent money. 8 oclock. Tek a picture. Gaffer. Living off a girl. No job. No money. Don’t run away. Sort your problems out. Borrow me a tenner, borrow be 8 poun’  Fuck off, Work hard for that money.

Froth and a pound, a pound coin at the bottom of the pool. I once found; a necklace, 50p, and a hair clip, chorine stinging my eyes. “That’s Darren.” Tiled bed. Chips and vinegar. “Lying bitch”. 4&5 star hotels, Birmingham to Bliss, 9 o’clock , and the phone rings, we’re moving house again, this one’s a flat but it has a garden. 

Take 2 steps back, but it makes you realise that “British band music is just the best”, her family’s Pakistani and she wants to meet Axel Rose from Guns and roses. Spaghetti hoops, dinner ladies. Who’s living the best lives?*