Motorbike scalls

This morning, Sarah and I were walking Doogle. We were just turning off Ullet Road heading down towards Sefton Park cricket club through a little cut-through when two scalls came haring up behind us on a monkey bike. They had just a moment to aim a well practised “Fuck yeah, I’m riding an unlicensed motorbike, what the FUCK are you gonna do about it?” Stare at us before the (really rather pathetically small, 50cc) bike wobbled a bit and stalled. Literally right next to us. Talk about your awkward moment. Doogle is scared stiff of engine noise and the two scalls had made it quite clear that we were “the man” and they were the cool, rebellious ones. They were looking at us with hate in their eyes… We weren’t going to move forward as we were trapped in a narrow passage and if they got it started then they’d clearly come screaming up behind us and not be able to get past.
They kicked and kicked at the poor little starter and it became obvious that they’d flooded the engine – they swore at the bike and at each other, whilst desperately ignoring our eyes.
“We’ll just wait here until you’ve got it started” Sarah called across, “Doogle here’s scared of engine noises you see”.
The pillion rider looked across at us and the hoodlum just disappeared out of his eyes. He became what he was – an awkward 14-17 year old boy who could not communicate with the adults.
“I think you might’ve flooded it mate – try not to twist the throttle while you’re kick-starting it” I ventured.
They mumbled to each other and we walked on, biting our lips.

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