Ianeass the Gimp

…Ah well, nothing’s to be done, I suppose. Men call him Ianeass the Gimp, since it is your pleasure to know.

…This discarded plastic bag reasoned with us that, since Ianeass the Gimp had by changing place with Costa liberated himself from his thralldom to the Old Disgrace & Bristol Sikhs CC, it followed that he Onanisticles was no longer bound by any ties to Ianeass the Gimp, for the ropes that had bound him to that Gimp were identical with the ropes that had bound that Gimp to his shed,…

…they had persuaded him to sign up to an eternity of cockwashing, the emissaries approached with similar blandishments Ianeass the Gimp in the bar which he nowadays frequented, viz. the Ghastly Hipster opposite Turbo Island. For it was surmised that, in the fullness of his years and given the somewhat mystical elements which were thought to underlie his obnoxiously Mancunian veneer, Ianeass the Gimp would make an extremely good eternal…

As the private ambulance bore away Dives the billionaire, I turned my attention to Ianeass the Gimp. That embodiment of sarcasm had evidently reconsidered his decision to spurn the invitation to replenish the ranks of the old men eternally washing their nethers, for he now approached the grimy drawbridge separating Pex ‘n’ Quads from reality. Probably needed the money. Our eyes met then, and he stopped in front of me…

Provincial gaunt not tall nor yet short Ianeass the Gimp on creaking joists and prematurely septuagenerian joints descended gingerly the stairs. Behind him and above in gloom, the slum stank. Chthonic deities offstage gargled hellishly, or else eructated. Some personage dwelling on an upper floor gave by means of emesis salutations unto dawn, in despite of time’s tending towards afternoon.

Ianeas yclept ‘the gimp’ was there, who likes

“Please don’t mind me, only I do like to come here on those rare occasions when Ianeass the Gimp, whose bondman I am, is so gracious as to license a furlough.”

“Stop thy fookin’ mitherin’,” snapped vey abruptly Ianeass the Gimp, “gnaw boddeh wants to gnaw about it.”

His Lordship was on the whole relieved to have wormed his way out of ceremonially castrating Ianeass the Gimp. Granted, it might in the fullness of time have rendered marginally less offensive the Mancunian ghastliness of that appalling little grunter. But rilly, the whole beeswax was far too squalid and infra-dig and, not to put too fine a point on it, Golden Bovian. For his part, Ianeass had needed vey…