‘I hate charades,’ I groaned. ‘Seriously, just feck off.’
‘Why?’ Jimmy asked.
‘It’s such a stupid game,’ I replied. ‘And I don’t want a repeat of the last time your cousin played with us and everyone shouted ‘fish out of water’ for ten minutes while he lay on the ground…you really should have told us he was epileptic.’
‘Ten minutes. That’s all.’
‘Fine,’ I replied smashing a cement block over his head and sticking a Les Miserables DVD in his mouth.
‘What the fuck was that?’ Jimmy mumbled before he passed out.