the F word On the morning after his 16th birthday, Jimmy Mizen went out to buy his first lottery ticket and popped into the Three Cooks Bakery to pick up a snack as he did every Saturday morning. Into the shop swaggered the short wiry aggressive Dirty Detz, gangster rapper, drug dealer, street fighter who barged Jimmy out of the way, jumped the queue demanding to know why there were no chicken sandwiches left.

‘Some manners wouldn’t go amiss’, said Jimmy quietly.

Three minutes later Jimmy was dead. Fatally wounded in a frenzied attack. He bled to death in his brothers arms. Continue reading