Sonny Dodds – The Magical Years by Hugh Cron – Adult Content

Foreword.

And so it came to pass –

It turned out Fly Mary was telling the truth in her lies about ‘The Second Coming’. The upstairs neighbour had been a Jaffa and Sonny was who she lied he was.

The question on god wanting to shag a skanky, cider drinking, random hoor has never been considered.

This is the story of one specific day in the life of Sonny and his morning resurrection.

Sonny and his Pal Rufus had just finished their breakfast of Dragon Soup, a roll with flat sausage, tattie scone and loads of broon sauce. They were putting on a show and trying to make some money. They headed towards their usual pitch outside the perimeter fence of the now derelict ‘Go-Go Fur Factory.’ Someone was there already trying to sell.

Sonny had turned the other week but not today.

“Folks, there’s nae baccy in his fags!! Fuck off Barry Bass ya robbin’ wee basturd!”

Barry Bass worrying that they were going to nail him, bolted.

“Now folks, we need two quid a skull if youse want to see the show!”

Rufus sat down a Jaguar Bunnet.

While the crowd were looking for change Rufus began to blow up a small paddling pool.

Sonny prepared. He shut his eyes and asked his father for help. He meditated and heard Rufus fill the pool from the old spicket that was attached to the outer wall. Sonny suddenly felt the need to open his eyes.

“Ah seen that! Pit it back an’ Ah’ll say nae mair aboot it!”

“Ah’m jist taken whit ye owe me fae yesterday. Ah gote the fish.”

“Aye but it wis your turn. Ah got the last supper!”

Rufus threw the money back into the hat and began his spiel.

“…The Great Sonny Dodds will now walk on water!”

One of the not-so meek cried out, “Fuck off!! We’ve seen Dynamo dae that oan the River Thames! That paddling pool is pure shite!”

His pal gave him a nudge, “Ah ken whit tube started aw this! Ah remember watching David Nixon when I was wee.”

“Who?”

“David Nixon”

“Whit? The Guns Of Navaron guy wae the big boaby. Seemingly he could pit it in a pint gless!”

“Naw. That wis David Niven ye walloper! I’m talkin’ aboot David Nixon!”

“Whit did he dae?”

“He made his hair disappear!”

“What else have you got?” Someone asked.

Sonny held his hands up hoping to look like that big statue from Brazil.

“I can change watter intae swallie.”

This was Rufus’s cue, they had been up all night practising.

“The Great Sonny Dodds…”

Someone from the front this time, “So whit! Ah can dae it the ither way. Gie me two litres of cider and I’ll turn it intae water when it comes oot my pisser! Boo! That’s crap! A guy on Britain’s Got Talent turned a budgie into Mount Everest…Noo that wis impressive!”

Rufus whispered, “Tough crowd Sonny! Whit else?”

“I can raise the deed!”

“The Great…”

“We get the idea!!”

An older gent piped up.

“I hated Ali Bongo!”

“Who was he?” His friend asked.

“Some twat that looked as if he was selling magic carpets!”

“Oh wait a minute, I remember him, he was shite. A kiddies entertainer wis he no?”

“Aye.”

The whole crowd shouted a very suspicious, “Ohhhh, ayyyye!!”

A younger voice sounded worried, “Ah wonder what he was making disappear and where it wis disappearing tae?”

“Probably intae that funny hat wae the tassel.”

“That wis Tommy Cooper ye prick.”

Rufus wouldn’t be put off.

“…Be marvelled as Sonny will raise the dead”

An old croan cackled from the back of the crowd, “I can dae that wae three shakes. That raises the deid. Well either that or a swatch at Carol Volderman’s arse dis it for ma auld man.”

Rufus was worried that they were losing them.

“Jesus fuck…Sorry…This isnae goin’ very well. You must huv something else.”

“Well you could nail me to the gates. Through my hands an’ feet an’ that!”

One of the friends began talking again.

“Whit aboot yoan Paul Daniels. Everyone thinks he’s a wee prick. But they’re wrong.”

“How dae ye ken?” Enquired his pal.

“Ah met him in Markie Sparkies.”

“Ah take it that he wis a nice guy?”

“Wis he fuck! He’s a fud…And not not a lot of a fud!”

Rufus continued…

“The Great…Oh fuck it…We are goan to nail him up oan the fence. He’ll then get aff the nails and rise up intae the sky!”

“Wait a minute, I didnae say anything aboot that!”

“Och, it’s a doddle! You’ll manage. Ah mean, efter aw the shite yea telt me ye kin dae.”

A new voice from the meek had become involved.

“Ah seen a woman once on yoan You Tube… She made a whole scarf disappear when she was naked…Why can you no dae somethin’ like that?”

“Aye… Stick yer act up yer hole!” Someone suggested.

Rufus tried to continue, “Has oany one been to B&Q. We’re looking for some nails and a hammer.”

A wee voice from the back, “Aye, here you go. I nicked them this morning.”

Sonny walked over to the fence climbed up the diagonal supports and held out one hand. Rufus climbed up beside him and hammered a nail into one of his hands.

“Yah Bastard!!”

He hammered a nail into his other hand.

“Fuck Rufus!!! That’s twice! I caught ye’ nicking the collection and noo this! Yur enjoying this ye bawbag”

His left foot first. Rufus wondered if that meant anything.

“You little shit!!! Ah seen a smile! I’m gonnie fucking curse you!!!!”

Then the right.

“Who in their right mind… AAAAARRRRGGGGHHHH that is fucking painful!!! Yur a bunch a’ basturds!!!!!”

“The Great Sonny Dodds, once he hus stopped greetin’ will escape fae the nails and rise intae the sky.”

The crowd was underwhelmed, “Why no stay up there for three days ye basturd!”

Sonny took a deep breath. He removed one hand, then the other. He grasped onto the top of the fence and pulled off one foot and then the other. He floated first then slowly levitated slightly higher and then higher still.

The crowd bowed their heads and slowly began to shake them. A loan journalist who had been following his career and was here to see for himself did believe. He took a picture and wrote the headline;

‘He truly is Thee Sonny Dodd.’

The older man pointed up, “That was pish!! I seen David Blain dae that years ago!! Look, you can see the wires… Fucking… Boo!!”

Sonny soured higher. He was determined to show them. They turned their wrath onto Rufus.

“We want oor money back. If no, we’re going to chib you!”

Rufus threw them half the money. As they bent down to pick it up, he legged it with the rest. Sonny cried after him, “Rufus you wee basturd, that is three times you’ve fucked me!”

A crow cawed. Sonny looked up into the sky and with a tear in his eyes and a thought for who he was speaking to cried, “Forgive them father, they know not who they do!”

 

Hugh Cron