Gaylett: Part Two (aka: ‘Cock Lobster’)…

This post introduces you to the mongoloid monstrosity to management that is Gaylett. If you can’t be arsed to read it, I stated in it that every relationship he had ever had in his life was with an employee at the car parts warehouse where we used to work.

After I had been there a couple of years, I was promoted to the role of ‘Key worker’ (supervisor), which put me in the enviable position of having both the middle-management above, and grunts below hating me with every fibre of their being.

I was drafted to a team which was considered the ‘Flagship’ and ordered to report to Gaylett as my Team leader. I was then treated with about as much respect as the steam from fresh dog snot atop a pile of filtered donkey vom on a winter’s morning. Maybe I’ll go into that more if I write a ‘part 3’, but believe me, it runs a bit more deeply than just somebody taking credit for all your work and ideas and permanently stifling you, and using you as an unwitting and undefended whipping boy for their mistakes simply because they’re afraid of your intelligence and potential – although that happened too.

Anyhoo, at the time in question Gaylett was in his second marriage to a woman in the office, but in the meantime had started a shamefully blatant affair with a hideous, mutated boggly-eyed 80’s throwback troll who looked like her makeup was applied with a shotgun, and whose hair was spayed so far back it made her cheeks bulge right out of her forehead. Her name was Debbie, and she was a filthy mare who had ridden through half the blokes in the place and eventually fell upon Gaylett thinking he could put an end to her money troubles.

Either stupidly oblivious, or arrogantly considering that nobody would notice their blatant displays of affection, they carried on flaunting themselves about the place, thining that nobody would dare to question his general superiority as the boss.

One day, a good friend of mine (Hi Mudbutton!) was driving home and he spotted Gaylett’s brand new car in a layby. Thinking this strange, he slowed down somewhat, just in time to catch a (frankly disturbing) glimpse of a semi naked Debbie, bouncing up and down like the clappers on top of a sweaty, heaving Gaylett.

Quite rightly, Mudbutton thought to himself ‘Well that’s a pretty decent bit of gossip’ and it was soon spread around the warehouse like wildfire with wild petrol poured over it.

Within about half an hour of the word being out, I was ushered to a quiet spot of the warehouse by my illustrious leader:


Gaylett: “I’ve heard that some people are spreading rumours about me”

Me: “Hmmmm – they’re not really just ‘rumours’ are they?”

Gaylett: “What do you mean?”

Me: “Well…*rolls eyes* - you ARE banging Debbie aren’t you?”

Gaylett: “Absolutely NOT!”

Me: “Well what were you doing 'bumping uglies' with her in the layby then?”

Gaylett: “I wasn’t!”

Me: “Oh, for fucks sake! – You were spotted Man! – Just admit it will ya?”

Gaylett: “NO! The thing is…She is…erm…having some personal problems…and I was just trying to …erm….reassure her!”

Me: “Hmmm 'reassure her?'...by shagging her ragged…for the last couple of months? Come off it, the foul cat's out of the bag...Everybody knows…”

Gaylett: “Look, I ORDER you to tell everybody that I am not having an affair with her”

Me: “Even though you are?”

Gaylett:”JUST DO AS I SAY!!”

Me: “Fuck off!”

The atmosphere at work for the next few days was frosty to say the least. He promptly scuttled to his manager and insisted that I be removed from his team, and also be disciplined for refusing to accept a direct order. When he wouldn’t tell his boss what the ‘order’ was, he then changed his story and said that due to my poor performance, I should be transferred from the ‘Flagship’ team.

This understandably pissed me off no end, so I was grateful for the opportunity that weekend to go out and get blitheringly cunted down Rugby Town Centre.

The night went well, and as I staggered along towards the taxi ranks I felt the need to use the local facilities (i.e - an alleyway near The betting shop). This is a popular place for people having a late night slash, so I wasn’t overly surprised to see a couple of other people there…However, these two were right under a street lamp…and one of them was a woman…

At first thought I assumed that perhaps a lady had also been ‘caught short’, and in these times of equality had decided to squat down to have a crafty pee next to her man…so I was about to turn away to give them their privacy when I spotted something familiar in the dull street light– A hairdo so striking that it was either Debbie, or a hideous tribute to one of the girl singers from the B52’s. This of course got my attention and I crept forward a little closer, then upon recognising that her plastered-on make-up was almost glowing in the dark, it confirmed my suspicions. It was Debbie…with Gaylett.

I then witnessed TWO things that I will never forget as long as I live.

Firstly, I overheard something… just over the sounds of piss splashing against the wall and trickling to form a mini lagoon along the alleyway ground, I heard a slight ‘grunting’ sound,and as I peered closer I saw a distinct lump begin to appear from under Debbie's hitched-up skirt.

She was having a shite! – in an alleyway! Classy bird or what?

As I choked back my gagging action, The next thing I saw was equally as disturbing, yet however, like watching a car crash, I knew it was wrong to stare but I couldn’t tear my self away. As Debbie remained crouched, waddling unsteadily as she squatted, I noticed that gradually, the stream of piss from Gaylett next to her slowly started to cease. He then turned, and in one motion shoved his cock deep into Debbie’s welcoming mouth, whereby she proceeded to blow him with such vigour that she could have suck-started a Harley Davidson.

He hadn’t even shaken the droplets of piss from his dick.

I thought for a second – weighing up my options – trying to conjure up a plan that I could use to capitalise on what horrors I was witnessing first hand...

However...pathetically, I just.couldn’t.think.of.anything. I was simply too gobsmacked to comprehend rational thought...

So all I did was hold in my piss, turn on my heels, and walk away.

I never mentioned it to him.

…

I Told everybody else though ;)

Unsurprisingly, soon afterwards I was subsequently transferred from the team, Gaylett's wife sussed what was going on and divorced the cunt before making a better life for herself. As for Gaylett, like I said before, he’s now the warehouse manager, and married again, to some other poor employee whom he met on a secondment to Romania...and yep, you guessed it - he knocked her up.

I hear he’s already bored with her and is looking elsewhere.

Poor woman.

In fact...Poor women...everywhere.

Part 3 here
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Fri 19 Jun 2009, 15:44, 10 replies)

urrrgh
is all/
( rofl harris, Fri 19 Jun 2009, 15:49, closed)

Click!
Great post, mate. Absolutely fucking GREAT!

Ahhh, getting shitfaced in Rugby; happy days!

Oh, and we get a classy type of lady in Warwickshire don't we? I mean, shitting and sucking at the same time? That takes skill, training and dedication...
( SpankyHanky, Fri 19 Jun 2009, 16:10, closed)

I'm sat here at home...
In my chair, dry retching.
That is one of the most horrifying visions you can have implanted in your mind...

Can someone pass the mind bleach please..
(Code of Post lives at the moment in time that is..., Fri 19 Jun 2009, 17:57, closed)

You've received a click
for that horrifying mental image.

Ewwwww..
(_(_(_(_(_(_(_(_(_ =o.o=, Fri 19 Jun 2009, 18:36, closed)

I'm saddened to report
That I have scarred my sense of decency to the point that that story, while disturbing, had no ill physical effects whatsoever on my person. I think it's partially because when I hear such a story I immediately go to my "happy place" which winds up being a truly monstrous telling of The Aristocrats, so in the end it is no better.

In any case, *click*
(blinkin the merrily misanthropic IT gremlin, Fri 19 Jun 2009, 20:04, closed)

I'm in the same boat.
Used to spend a lot of time on /b/....

Ah, well.

I trained myself well enough that my happy place is just music, no pictures.
(Scritty Bakerman., Sun 21 Jun 2009, 10:12, closed)

My loss and my gain so it seems,
So yet again Mudbutton goes on a mind melting beer fuelled weekend of fun, thinking i'll do the debbie post tomorrow. However the justice you have done in the artistic lingo you use, i cannot possibly compete.

Top post, major clickage and confusion....

Yes confusion, coming mainly from the fact i want to laugh, i want to enjoy but i still have the memories.... christ she was a munter... and god he is such a dick. You have the alley, i have the sight of a 4x4 slowly rocking and the sight of two semi naked apes doing wrong things to each other.... shudder....

Nice one matie!!!!
(MudButton does not mean to offend but......, Mon 22 Jun 2009, 12:39, closed)

The title of this
Is worth any amount of clicks without even reading the story.
( MatJ LOOK, Mon 22 Jun 2009, 16:40, closed)

*click*
Another fine post, Mr Flake
( TheMagicDwarf is back like ballroom dancing, Wed 24 Jun 2009, 11:53, closed)

dear god!
have a click for the mental scarring you've inflicted on me with that story. for a minute I thought you were going to say that he continued pissing into her gob...don't know if that would have been better or worse!
(RVD420 has his world coming down on, Wed 24 Jun 2009, 16:08, closed)