Future Queens of England

by Ryan Matthews

  “Enough! Shut it you slags,” Lex said, and she strode up to Tony and punched him full in the face.

  “You hit like a girl,” Tony said defiantly.

  “I am a girl you silly twat,” Lex growled at Tony.

  “Barely,” he grinned.

  Lex clenched her fist, “Hit like a girl do I?” she said. Her knuckles cracked as she prepared herself. “Let him go,” she ordered.

  Tony’s captor released him and stepped back. Tony smugly smoothed the wrinkles out of his shirt to buy himself some time while thinking up his next witty retort. But before Tony had a chance to speak Lex’s fist flew suddenly and struck him in the centre of his throat. Tony felt his Adam’s apple bounce off of his oesophagus. He fought for breath as he fell to his knees and writhed on the floor.

  “Do the same to them,” Lex ordered.

  Gareth, Uwe and Hugh each braced themselves for the pain as the succession of blows came to them. One by one they each fell to the ground clutching at their throats, fighting for air.

  “Let that be a lesson to you faggots,” Lex said before kicking Tony hard in the stomach and spitting on him for a second time. She crouched down and peered into his contorted face, “No one makes a fool of us on the hockey pitch and we never, ever lose, especially not to your lot.” The girls turned and walked casually back to their van laughing and congratulating each other.

  Lex turned and shouted back at them. “You’re nothing but a bunch of useless faggots and fairies!”

  Tony, Uwe, Gareth and Hugh lay on the cold, hard tarmac taking brief snatches of air as they fought to breath.

  Tony sucked in some air as he searched for the resolve to speak. “We …” he said before sucking in another breath of air, “… never ... tell ...” pausing for a moment as he strained to breathe “… anyone … about … this ... ever!”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Hey Keenan, are you coming or not?” Hugh shouted from the doorway. He propped the door open with his foot and tutted impatiently. He glared repeatedly at his watch to emphasise his point.

  “What's the rush? Ben's never on time,” he shouted back at Hugh.

  Hugh frowned. “I know, but he does that on purpose. You know how he likes to make a big entrance. If we get there late we'll encroach on his performance.”

  “Okay, okay,” Keenan conceded as he threw his stationery and books into his bag and made his way over to Hugh. “Where are the others? Have they left already?”

  “Marc didn't come back last night so I don't know what happened to him. But Tony and Uwe have been up for hours training for the next match,” Hugh explained. “They go for a run, then onto the gym and then they do some hockey practise. I should really go with them too, but I don't sleep well, as you know, so I can't get up at the same time as them.”

  “Aye, and there I was thinking it was because you're a lazy bastard, Hugh,” Keenan said sardonically.

  Hugh blushed, but thought better of rising to this.

  The two of them wandered down the corridor towards the grand staircase. As they approached the top of the stairs they saw a pair of legs sticking out from behind the curtains.

  “It looks like we've found Marc,” Keenan groaned, rolling his eyes.

  They walked over to the curtains and pulled them back, Marc lay slumped against the wall virtually comatose and stinking of the night before. Keenan kicked the soles of Marc's shoes, but he didn’t stir. He tried again, but still Marc showed no sign of waking.

  Keenan sighed. “I'm tired of this shit, you know.” He walked over to one of the trestle tables that lined the corridors and picked up the floral display. Keenan discarded the flowers and walked back towards Hugh and Marc with the vase in his hand. “This'll wake the drunken bastard up,” he said, with more than a hint of menace, and promptly poured the contents of the vase over Marc's head.

  Marc gasped for air as he was awoken from his slumber. He looked around, trying to get his bearings. He squinted up through bleary eyes at Hugh and Keenan. “Why did you do that, you pair of twats? Couldn't you have woken me like a normal human being?”

  Keenan shook his head and raised the side of his mouth. “You're late for class you ungrateful gobshite.”

  Hugh crouched down to Marc's eye level. “If you don't get your act together they'll kick you out,” he said solemnly.

  “Ah, who gives a shit?” Marc muttered angrily.

  Hugh studied Marc for a moment. “What’s that on your forehead?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Keenan laughed. “Ha! Someone’s drawn the phantom on your bleeding forehead. That’ll teach you.”

  Marc rubbed his forehead furiously. “Has it gone?”

  “Nope. Try and wet it.”

  Marc ran his fingers through his wet hair, and then rubbed his forehead again. “What about now?”

  Hugh shook his head. “Sorry, Marc, it’s not coming off. I reckon it’s been drawn on with an indelible marker pen.”

  “It suits you, though,” Keenan said. “It makes you look like a super hero.”

  “Fuck off, Keenan!”

  “Here, let me try.” Hugh removed a tissue from his pocket and wet it with his tongue. He extended his hand to Marc’s forehead, but Marc knocked his hand away.

  “Don’t you dare!”

  “What? It’s only a cat-lick,” Hugh said.

  “It’s your spit. Why is it okay if you lick a tissue? Why not just gob directly on my face and then wipe it with the tissue?” He shook his head at Hugh. “I'm going back to bed to sleep this off,” he said, and with that he walked unsteadily back towards the Larry Grayson boudoir licking his hand and rubbing at his forehead.

  “Come on, Keenan, we'd better get a move on. He's made us late now,” Hugh said, before making his way quickly down the stairs.

  When they arrived at the class they could hear muffled voices. Hugh listened at the door and heard Ben awarding the grades from the style assignment.

  “Oh shit, they've already started. You go first,” Hugh said to Keenan, urging him on.

  “Jesus, what are you like?” Keenan replied. He reached down and turned the handle of the large mahogany door. It creaked as he pushed it open, Hugh winced at the noise and the attention of the class turned away from Ben and onto Hugh and Keenan.

  “Oh, so nice of you to join us,” Ben said without his normal pleasantness.

  “Sorry, sorry,” Hugh said as he and Keenan made their way over to their cushions.

  Ben put his hands on his hips. “I accept your apology, but shouldn't you apologise to the new boy?”

  All of the students looked around trying to see who Ben meant.

  “Why don't you stand up and introduce yourself?” Ben said warmly.

  “Who exactly are you talking about?” Uwe said with vitriol.

  “Why, this dapper young fellow here,” Ben said, pointing at Tony. He smiled to himself and began to ham his performance up. “He looks vaguely like everybody's favourite hooligan and homophobe, but this could never be. This must just be an unfortunate coincidence for this fellow. Stand up young man and introduce yourself.” He gestured for Tony to stand up to cheers from the rest of the class.

  Tony remained firmly seated on his cushion. “I'm alright here, actually.”

  “Oh so modest,” Ben simpered with a flick of his wrist. “Seriously, Tony, please stand up and come to the front. I'm not a religious man, but I think I've witnessed a miracle.”

  Reluctantly Tony rose to his feet, kicked back his cushion and walked to the front of the class.

  “So, let's take a look at our man. Nobody is to speak, just look on in awe.” He stepped back to the side of the class and faced Tony.

  The whole class stared at Tony as he stood uncomfortably in the spotlight.

  Ben turned to face the class with one arm outstretched towards Tony and started to speak respectfully. “Now, isn't that a work of art. Somebody take a photo and hang it on the wall.” His eyes moved from Tony and onto the
class. “Uwe, Gareth. Please stand up and take a bow. Oh, and you too, Hugh.”

  The class applauded as the three of them stood up and took a bow. Hugh basked in the glow while Uwe held back a smile that fought to make an appearance on his face.

  Gareth made his way over to Tony. “We can't take all the credit here, Ben.”

  Uwe frowned and his eyes made daggers at Gareth.

  “Tony deserves most of the credit. He jumped at the chance for this makeover and let the three of us give him a complete overhaul.” He reached out and shook Tony's hand as firmly as he could.

  Now it was Tony's turn to frown. “Well, I wouldn't go that far,” he protested.

  “Oh, don't be so humble; be proud of the new you,” Gareth said warmly, patting him on the back with his other hand.

  The class whooped and whistled at Tony; eventually he grinned and gestured for Hugh and Uwe to join him and Gareth. He clasped his hands together and raised them above his shoulder in victory, mocking himself.

  “Okay, you all get an 'A' for that. I could not have asked for more,” Ben said proudly. “Now please return to your cushions.”

  As Tony walked past Ben, Ben reached out and stopped him.

  “Is that eye shadow you're wearing? How on earth did anyone convince you to wear that?” Ben said, trying to get a good look at Tony's eye.

  “No, it's not eye shadow!” Tony protested. “It's a bloody bruise, that's all.”

  Ben tilted his head to one side and waited for Tony to provide an explanation.

  “It's a long story and it's not very interesting. Can we move on?”

  Ben looked a little disappointed at missing out on this titbit of gossip. “Whatever you desire, Tony,” he said with a sigh. “Go on, take your seat.”

  They all settled back down onto their soft cushions and chatted about their grades. Ben decided to let them have a few moments before he started the day's lecture. He walked over to his desk and took a small sip from a bottle of water. Then he took some of his notes from his desk and read through them quietly. Ben half listened to the students and noticed that they had stopped talking about grades and were now talking about their plans for the weekend, so he placed his notes on his desk and turned around to face them once again.

  “Right! Settle down,” he shouted over the racket. “Today you're going to learn about Fag Haggery.”

  An excited murmur rippled across the class and Ben smiled. “So what is Fag Haggery?” he asked rhetorically. “Well, as I told you at the beginning of the year, Fag Haggery is the capture and subsequent keeping of a fag hag.”

  Tony raised his hand. “Sorry, I just don't get it. What exactly is a fag hag?” he asked with a look of confusion.

  “Sorry Tony, you look so much like one of us now that I completely forgot to explain,” Ben said apologetically. “A fag hag is a girl or woman – I am never sure of the most politically correct way to refer to them these days – who acts as a companion to you. Cast your mind back, if you will, to the beginning of term when I delivered my fabulous and truly unforgettable introductory session. You may recall that I informed you that you will be taught how to intelligently select a female companion.”

  The class nodded, except for Tony, who raised his hand again. “I still don't get it. You lot are gay, right?”

  “He's learning,” Ben said with a wink.

  Tony ignored this and carried on. “But you want a girl to hang around with, right?” he said requesting confirmation.

  “Yes, right again, Tony,” Ben said, nodding.

  Tony's facial expression changed to puzzlement as he tried to make sense of this. He rubbed his forehead with his thumb and index finger. “So you look for a girl that you like and make friends with her on a purely platonic basis?”

  Ben clapped his hands together in delight. “He's got it. What a wonderful teacher I am.”

  It was Hugh's turn to raise his hand now. “But what do you do with them exactly once you select one?” Hugh asked.

  Ben listened carefully and waited politely for Hugh to finish. “Well, they will accompany you when you go shopping and help you choose your outfit. Or you can take them to a club with you and they'll watch your drinks while you dance or visit the little boy’s room. They'll even help you decide who's worth pulling and who isn't, without the worry of them trying to cop off with your potential target.”

  “Okay,” Hugh said. “That makes sense. They sound handy. I think I'd like one.”

  Tony scratched his head. “You know what? I still don't get it.”

  “It's just a female companion for you to hang out with,” Ben said, wondering how Tony still didn't get it.

  “A female companion,” Tony said out loud as he considered it further, “and you call these birds 'fag hags'.”

  “Yes,” Ben replied simply.

  “Do you know what I'd do if I had a fag hag?” Tony shouted out.

  Ben pondered this question for a moment, trying to decide whether he should answer.

  “I'll tell you anyway. I'd fuck her, if I had one,” Tony announced, not waiting for an answer. “I'd bang her into next week.”

  “Tony, Tony, Tony,” Ben said. “Can you not calm that throbbing libido for the sake of us all?”

  “Hey, I can't fight a billion years of evolution now, can I?” Tony said matter-of-factly as if it excused his behaviour. “I'd bone her every which way but loose.”

  “Urgh, please shut up,” Uwe said, trying not to gag. “The mental image of heterosexual intercourse is enough to make me bring my breakfast up.” He raised his hand to his mouth as if to stop himself from vomiting.

  Tony laughed at Uwe's reaction. “Bang! Bang! Bang!” he shouted over and over again at Uwe while repeatedly thrusting his hips.

  “Oh somebody please shut him up, it's making my stomach turn,” shouted Bruce. “Heterosexual sex is so unnatural!”

  Ben clapped his hands together again in an attempt to regain control of the situation. “Come on now, focus everybody. Keep the heterophobia to a minimum please. Let's get back on track.”

  The class’s attention went back to Ben once more, but the look of disgust remained on their faces.

  “Look, Tony,” Ben said with exasperation, “it's a bit like owning a dog, Tony. Okay? Is that something that you can understand?”

  “Ah, I see, it's starting to make sense now,” Tony said with a smile.

  “And you wouldn't want to sleep with a dog now, would you Tony?” Ben said, trying to bring this avenue of discussion to an end.

  Tony grinned. “Well, never say never, Ben. I've shagged some real hounds in my time, if you know what I mean.” He slapped his legs and laughed raucously.

  The class looked away as Tony made a series of rude gestures with his arms.

  “And I boned a few pigs too, as well,” he added before making high-pitched noises like a distressed pig. “Squeal piggy, squeal!” he said through his laughter.

  “Right, that's enough, Tony,” Ben said seriously, waving his finger at Tony. “Give it a rest now. You're making everyone feel sick.”

  Tony's face darkened for a moment before Gareth's hand reached over and touched his shoulder. “Relax Tony, relax,” he said calmly, “don't lose your cool.”

  Tony concentrated on his breathing and slowly the scowl left his face and he nodded begrudgingly to let Gareth know he had control.

  “Go on, Ben, please continue,” Gareth said in a soothing voice.

  Ben eyed Tony warily. “Yes. Well, where was I?” he said to himself. “Ah yes, I remember. I was telling you about Fag Haggery.”

  The mood lightened in the room again and Ben started to get into his stride once more.

  “As I was saying, every fag needs a hag,” he declared. “As I said before, what is a fag without a hag? Remember earlier in the year I asked you to ponder the following: What was Batman without Robin?” He left a pause to allow the class to contemplate this for a moment before continuing. “What was Dorothy without Toto? And what was Tri
pitaka without Monkey? You’re going to need to get yourself a fag hag and it is my job to teach you how to select the right one for you. I’ll show you where to find one.” His pace quickened as he explained, “Don’t just pick the first fat girl that you find crying on the stairs at a party, you’ll need to choose carefully … be selective,” Ben warned as he wagged his finger at the class. “A fag hag is for life, not just for Christmas,” he added in a serious tone. “Most importantly, I will teach you what to do with them once you get one and how to handle them.”

  Uwe’s hand shot up into the air.

  “Yes?” Ben said, pointing at Uwe. “You have a question?”

  “I do,” Uwe stated. “What do you mean when you say how to handle them?”

  “Ah,” Ben nodded sagely, “I’ll tell you what I mean. Fag hags are like Mogwai; you must follow a certain set of strict rules if you want to have one. Listen carefully.”

  The class leaned forward to listen as Ben spoke in a secretive manner. “Rule number one: Don’t feed them alcohol after midnight or get them wet, otherwise they will try and have sex with you.

  The assembled listeners gasped in horror.

  “The forbidden love,” Gareth whispered.

  “The love that dare not speak its name,” Ben said in a serious tone.

  “Fag shaggery,” whimpered Bruce.

  “Yeah. What sort of sick, twisted pervert would sleep with a woman?” Hugh said out loud so everyone heard him.

  Tony's face was like thunder. “I can't believe that I am hearing this.”

  Ben coughed, remembering where he was. “Sorry Tony, please accept our apologies. It just seems a little ...” he stumbled for the right words, “... wrong, I suppose.”

  “Maybe to you it does. But it's completely right to me,” Tony replied. “In fact, if any of your fag hags need a good seeing to, then you just call on your old mate Tony. I'll sort them out.”

  “Thank you Tony, we'll bear that in mind,” Ben said. “As I was saying, there are rules to keeping your fag hags. Like getting them drunk at the end of the night; that's when they are at their most vulnerable and will potentially try and sleep with you. Or worse,” he added ominously.