An Uncle's Peverted Path To Lust

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Montreal in the Springtime, eh. I was watching a Saturday match at the cricket club in a town a few miles from my home; I preferred this particular club ground because I could watch while sitting in my car, which was much more comfortable than the hard wooden benches next to the clubhouse. It was also quieter, as the local supporters tended to become rather noisy when lubricated with multiple cans of lager. My wife Niki had accompanied me to the town to go shopping, leaving me to enjoy the game by myself. After completion of the first innings, there was a 40-minute break while the teams had tea and sandwiches, or perhaps beer and curry, eh. I decided to walk into the nearby shopping center for want of something better to do, and when I arrived there I needed to have a pee, so I went to the public toilets. I was just about to enter when a small ginger-haired boy was ejected from the building with some force, inevitably crying his eyes out. I asked him what was wrong and he told me that he was desperate to pee, but there were three boys in there and one of them had told him to get out. I suggested that he could come in with me, holding my hand and addressing me as 'Uncle Jean-Michel'. His tears subsided, he told me his name, Vincent Vollmann, his age, ten, then he took my hand and we went in. As soon as the biggest of the three boys saw Vincent, he said, “I told you to get out, Ginger-Nut,” and tried to grab Vincent's hair with his left hand, but I just held the offending hand and slowly crushed it. The boy cried out in pain while his two friends watched in alarm. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out a flick-knife, threatening me with it.

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