Few Presents “Father Dead”. #1

Back on the road to Dublin, Few mentioned the film project again. He’s riding shotgun this time, his swollen face is returning to normal, the past few days have dented his ebullience somewhat but still, he’s Few. Too Few, if you know what I mean. It all seems like a dream to me now, could…

Few’s Exit, Stage Left. Chapter 11.

Van’s singing, mumbling to himself “The elm from which false dreams cling Ding a ding a ding ding ding” Then he’s grunting again. It comes to mind that a lot of his tunes end up in a grunt exposition. He’s got song apnoea. It’s unsettling, like Maria Sharapova’s on board. I try to break the…

SWIT’s Uneasy Listening for Halloween: Freak Yourself Out

We’ve compiled a couple of uneasy listening playlists over the last few months, we think they’re perfect to give you a deep, uneasy feeling this Halloween. Volume 1 and 2 playlists, as well as the original posts are below. Here’s hoping we creep you out.

Few In The Underworld. Chapter 10.

“He’s no one of consequence.” “No one of consequence, Oh Few, you do have a good memory. Wasn’t that how I introduced myself to you all those years ago? So much water, so many bridges. Is he for me? I haven’t had one in ages, he doesn’t look in great shape though, what is going…

Few’s Attic Conversion. Chapter 9.

“Your soul?” “Come on, the sun is up. We’ll be safe enough, he’ll have chilled out by now.” “Your soul?” “Never bloody mind for the moment. Jesus you can’t tell some people anything. Just leave it there, let’s just say we’re to take delivery of something. She has it, she will return it to me…

Few Calls 999. Chapter 8.

  “Right, they’re on the way, I tell you they’ll sort out The Kevin, this will be the end of him”. “That sounds ominous” We walk back to the flat, it’s all gone quiet, the front door is still open. Silence. We creep into the kitchen. Bob is sitting in the middle of chaos smoking…

Few’s Breakdown: Uneasy Listening Vol. 2. Chapter 7.

Denis is outside. He’s knocking, scraping the door. “Boys, boys, open the fucking door, I need an auld drink.  It’s a tough old station out here on me own. I can hear her in the attic. She’s awake. She’s calling me. Don’t let her take me.” Few shushes furiously, spraying me with saliva. We sit…

Few’s Omnibus: The First Six Chapters

Too Few is the founder of Few Enterprises. A debauched impresario, he has operated in the shadows for years. Now Few has inadvertently staggered into the spotlight, puppet master turned mannequin. Here are the first six chapters of his improbable adventures. Tune in every Friday at around 2 pm GMT for future installments.

Few’s London: Out Of Our Deptford. Chapter 6.

  Too Few locks the door, pushed the heavy dresser on front. I’m sitting on the bed, my head spinning, the room spinning, Few spinning. He fucks the rickety chair up against the wall and smashed his foot through it, grabs two of the broken legs and hands me one. “You’ll need this, keep it…

City Break: Few’s Lost Weekend. Chapter 5.

We are approaching Belfast, evening falls, the crows call out a warning. I’ve got an uneasy feeling. Few is drunk, or merry anyway. Merry in a morose way. Maudlin. The phone rings. I put it on speaker. “The Few”, a thick guttural accent, hard to place exactly but Munster somewhere. Suddenly Few is alert, and…

Long, Luas and Full of Juice: Few hits the road. Chapter 4.

Few has been summoned to Belfast by his “associates”.  He’s cagey as fuck, won’t tell me who they are. He’s nervous too. He’s shaking. More than usual anyway. I cajole him into taking the train. Not easy. He’s worried about riffraff. The great unwashed. And other piquant sobriquets. Eventually we find ourselves waiting at Smithfield Luas….

Few’s The Kids Are All Wrong. Chapter 3.

Too Few Is shuffling around his desk, it’s what he calls dancing. He smirks, it could be a grimace. “Where’s the gin?” He roars; “Never mind.” He spot a half empty (half full) bottle on the window ledge, grabs a rancid coffee cup and pour liberally. Big gulp. “Aha, you are a fucking genius! That…