TIGGER

On one journey we picked up A.D. who was in a sombre mood, this was unusual for him. We had travelled for a mile or so in an uneasy silence before Lone, who was never backwards in coming forwards said, “What’s up A.D.? ”. A.D. said, “Tiggers dead”. This confused C.U.S. as we knew A.D. hated Tigger, a crossbred moggie owned by Gillian, A.D.’s wife, Tiger also hated A.D. with a passion, hissing, clawing and spitting whenever A.D. went near him. Out of respect for A.D’s grief C.U.S. fell silent. This silence became strained the longer it went on.
Lone and I knew that Garth could not let this silence last.
“Can I have the skin?” Garth asked.
At first there was a stunned silence as even for Garth this sounded a tad callous.
“What the fuck do you want the skin for?” Lone and I chorused.
“To make a Davy Crocket hat with,” said Garth in a hurt tone.