Thread: Sophie Turner's Brutal Birthday (DeRe and Celebstars)

Where Sophie's birthday was going well, Kevin Cochran's 40th was rapidly turning into a flop. As a Detective Superintendent in the local vice branch, he was well used to getting his way. But this night, the handsome and boyish-looking copper called Babyface found all the doors shut. His own notorious reputation was to blame, as his fiery temper and penchant for cruelty saw him barred from every club, pub and strip club along his beat. There were plenty of prostitutes in the area who knew either to pay him hefty protection or face a sadistic rape. That dreadful temper was being to rise now, and took form in his vicious bellow of I NEED CUNT! Cochran was surrounded by his four cronies, all DIs in the Met and fellow vice sleazebags. Hale, the chubby alcoholic Scot and National Front exponent Geller, a gambling addict who moonlighted for gangsters to fund his habit Leaver, a Mancunian and Army dropout of notable height who had been already transferred twice for sexual harassment and Cameron, the group's only university educated member, a pudgy and sycophantic creep who presence was tolerated because his father happened to be the Chief Commissioner. In flashy and ill-fitting suits, the group of fortysomething wannabe studs protected a sight that was ridiculous to those who didn't know who they were. Those enlightened about them preferred to lie low. The faux-gangster image was no charade. Cochran's horny bellow bounced down the walls of the narrow brick alley. The lads were descending on the Onslow, one place they knew would be open to them - and filled with nubile feminine prey. Encountering the 'closed' sign, and the burly barrel of a bouncer standing before them, their already dark moods worsened considerably. Normally the gang would restrain Cochran's regular tantrums, but this time they were fully in tune with his rage. After a brief, snarled banter with the gorilla on the door something snapped. The offhand and aloof way he dismissed the five was more than the drunken detectives could take. With a smooth swiftness perfected from dozens of takedowns they grabbed the bouncer before he knew what was happening. As his four friends grabbed a limb each, Cochran pulled out his sock filled with coins and whacked it repeatedly across the bouncer's, face, while landing a series of hard kicks in his crotch. Despite his huge bulk and desperate struggles, the giant man could do nothing as the five dragged him into the dank end of the alley and stomped him quickly and quietly into oblivion before throwing him into a nearby trashladen skip bin. Taking a few minutes to compose themselves, the five straightened their suits and took a few more bursts of coke they had disappeared from the evidence room. Their anger changed to elation as they nonchalantly threw open the green steel door and entered the club, and witnessed the youthful revelry within. Well gents! oozed Cameron, enough barely legal bitches for everyone! Eh, grunted Leaver, See that ginger bint? Ain't see on the telly or something? The five ignored the room's inquisitive stares and instead gazed over at Sophie, lost in cheerful delirium on the dancefloor. Ooohh gud, I wannae fuck that! said Hale, his tongue and eyes springing out like a puppet. Geller furiously puffed on his cigarette. See er tits? Halfway fuckin out already Stepping down into the pub, leading his sleazy posse behind him, Cochran spoke in a low snarl that was directed more to himself than the lads. Get er separated. There's a pool room round here. We get er separated and rip er in 'alf. Then turning about, and speaking them almost in the manner of a briefly, he said Gel and Cameron, get some beers and a table over there. Hale and Lev, see if you can find that room and clear it out, use yer ID if you have too. He gazed over at Sophie with burning eyes. I'm going to give the birthday girl her present.