Mr Windscreen Washer

Derrik is pumped for a big day of scrounging cash off horrified motorists. He rides his stolen BMX to the bushes between Canning Highway and the Freeway off ramp. All his crew are the products of mutli-generational inbreeding, but only Derrik ticks every box: missing teeth, rat tail, FUBU shirt and to top it all off, a trolley pole stashed down his Adidas snap-pants. Time to get to work.

Dererik is basically like the paperwork for an old school baby bonus welfare allowance: crudely slapped together by a pair of uninformed public nuisances that mated with no higher ambition then their son to generate a small amount of income for the inevitable goal of smoking more cigarettes.

Derrik walks down an aisle of cars that are waiting desperately for the light to turn green. He holds his squeegee up in an attempt to find some consensual customers. Hmm, no takers. It’s plan B then: he slaps his filthy squeegee on the windscreen of a motorist who isn’t paying attention. The motorist signals that he doesn’t want Derrik to infect his windshield with HIV. It’s far too late. Derrik is tapping on the motorists drivers window. He could ignore the street rat, but he suspects that will end in his car being vandalised. He wisely slips Derrik a gold coin. “Got any ciggys though, bro?” Yuk.

Derrik has collected $14 in an hour. He takes a short break: cigarettes, chocolate milk and some 50 Cent blaring from his stolen mobile phone. He crudely propositions one of his female crew members, “aw wet me dick ya sluzza?”. She probably will later. For now, it’s back to work. He pets his rat tail for good luck and goes forth to harass motorists again.

Derrik approaches a BMW. The motorist instinctively turns on his own windscreen wipers as a way of demonstrating to Derrik that his car does not need further cleaning. Derrik flips balls. He feels “disrespected” in that way that people worthy of no respect seem to, and starts kicking off like a junkie at a payphone. Luckily for all involved, the light turns green and Derrik fucks off back to the bushes. Derrik decides to call it a day, “aw got enough for a tube of Tarzan’s Grip, youse all can get fucked”.

Derrik rides off into the sunset with the intention of inhaling glue and spreading infection.

Documenting the Human Zoo is thirsty work, so if you enjoyed what you read how about buying Belle a beer, ay?