By Dan Burkitt

Johnny Blackpencil Part III: Black Blood

Well, well, well. New Blood briefing day. It is finally upon us. Come friendly briefs and fall on Brixton. How many are you doing Johnny? Not sure yet. I might stick to single figures, but then again, I might not.

Which ones are you doing Johnny? I’ve got my eye on a few. I know a lot about beer, I know a lot about menstruation, but there’s one thing I really know – sex.

You’re not surprised, are you? Of course not. I can definitely nail this durex brief. Just like I can definitely nail your girlfriend. If you want to experience real sex, you just need one night in my silky black sheets. You’ll forget your own name, but you won’t forget mine. I will be the best, the biggest, the boldest lover you have ever experienced. Tantalising foreplay, expert intercourse, and a comforting cuddle afterwards.

Oh yes, that brief is mine. I’ve made space for the pencil on my shelf. But I won’t stop there. I’ll do plenty more. I might even do the monotype brief. Don’t worry, Ian, I’ve got this. It’s just drawing a load of letters. I can do that. How hard can it be? I can draw and I know what letters look like. I can design a typeface. I’ll get it to you beautifully crafted by this afternoon, Mr Hands.

I’ve printed off dozens of copies of the briefs. One on my bedside table, one with me at all times, one laminated in the shower. I know every word intimately. I know all the rules. I know how to comply with them, break them, bend them however I see fit. And knowledge is power kids – you have to know the rules to break them.

When I was at school, I used to break the rules. Yeah, I was a bad kid. A rebel, a trailblazer, a maverick. I used to smoke fags and stub them out on old ladies at the bus stop. I used to put dog shit in my sister’s satchel. I used to seduce my teachers and break their hearts. But I’m not like that anymore. I’ve calmed down. I’ve found my peace. I treat people with respect.

It’s like J-Mac said in his masterclass, we’re all just one energy, man. What a talk that was. I spoke to him afterwards and I said, ‘Mate, I’ve got a new goal. This time next year I’ll be wearing your jiu-jitsu crown.’ And he smiled that enigmatic smile and replied, ‘Maybe I should concede right now’. Then he slapped me on the back and gave me a signed copy of his book. What a great guy. I’ll have him on the floor in twenty-nine seconds.

Because I’m a winner. I don’t need a coin to tell me what to do. I am my own coin. I am heads and tails. I am north, south, east and west. Those pencils will be mine.

I will have the best book. I will be at the top of the stairs. I will be Marc’s golden boy. The golden son of the golden god. His golden Jesus. I will be in Cream. I am cream. Thick clotted cream on top of a scone, with homemade jam.

I am Johnny and I will win. 

I bleed New Blood, I bleed Yellow Blood, I bleed Black Blood.