The Face Of Death (Barney Thomson) by Douglas Lindsay Page A

bother,' said the barman, a rough-looking chap with a cream cheese face and ears which had been flattened out using a workbench tool constructed of some sturdy metal. He poured the drink; Barney watched as the smooth golden brown fluid filled the glass.
    'You're looking a bit miserable there,' said Bobby the barman, as a conversational opener. It was a slow night and he needed the craic.
    'Thanks,' said Barney. 'You're looking fine yourself.'
    'Oh, thanks,' said Bobby, missing the sarcasm. 'You've noticed my complexion?'
    Barney looked across the bar as the pint was handed over. Only in the most virulent cases of psoriasis do men notice the complexion of other men.
    'Aye,' said Barney, dourly, not knowing what else to say, and wondering if he was about to be propositioned.
    'Aye,' said Bobby, stroking his cheek, 'I've been drinking my own pish. It does wonders for it.'
    Barney stared at the light brown liquid from which he was about to take his first sip.
    'First thing in the morning,' said Bobby, 'when it's fresh and warm and steaming. Absolutely brilliant for the skin. You should try it.'
    Barney didn't answer. He was still staring at his lager.
    'Any other time of the day and it's lost all its goodness. Has to be first thing,' said Bobby. 'Course, there's the question of what to do if you need to take a pish in the middle of the night. Opinion is divided in the scientific community.'
    'Aye,' said Barney, 'I saw that on the Discovery Channel.'
    And finally he delved into his lager and took a long slow drink, his first alcohol in some weeks, and he could feel the cold liquor pour down his throat and through his chest and into his stomach. It tasted smooth and glorious and mellow, and was like taking a first wonderful breath of fresh air.
    'Did you know that every one of us has eight pounds of undigested meat in his colon?' said Bobby. 'Apart from veggies, of course. They've got eight pounds of carrots or chocolate or something up there. But, I mean, eight pounds?'
    Barney nodded. He took another drink, shorter this time, savouring the taste, trying to ignore Bobby the barman.
    'That's like, what, a stone or something?' said Bobby, shaking his head. 'That's why I'm about to go for that colonic irrigation thing, you know. A quick swoosh up the arse with a jet of water, or whatever it is they use. How hard can that be, eh?'
    Barney nodded. Might as well go for it. Literally talking pish. What the hell ...
    'I've heard they do it with a pink milk shake type fluid,' said Barney.
    'No, that's an enema,' said Bobby. 'Or strawberry milk shake, that's a pink milk shake type fluid. No, for colonic irrigation they use lighter fluid or kerosene or something.'
    'I don't think they put a match to it or anything, though,' he added as an afterthought.
    'That's tremendous,' said Barney. 'I'm really pleased for you.'
    'Thanks,' said Bobby. 'I'll be getting the women, no end. There'll be a queue from here to Ullapool.'
    'Aye,' said Barney.
    'The Age of Bobby The Barman is coming,' said Bobby the barman.
    'What's your chat up line going to be?' asked Barney. 'Fancy a shag, love? My back passage has been vacuumed and you should taste my pish ... good length, with hints of citrusy fruits.'
    'I might just use that,' said Bobby, smiling.
    And they lapsed into silence. Bobby found a couple of glasses to dry, doing that barman thing, while Barney drank long and hard from the lager that was supposed to sustain him half the evening, so that after three and a half minutes it was almost finished.
    'You'll have heard about those four tourists they found?' asked Bobby after a while, the silence beginning to bother him.
    No reason for it, but the soft voice with the barest trace of a Highland accent, the voice that did not go with the fairly repellent exterior, cut into Barney's feeling of ease. Suddenly he felt a shiver course through his body, an ugly shiver which left a vicious feeling of discomfort. He closed his eyes momentarily, and in the darkness he