Most of the tunnels, the twisting maze of them in this place, Peggles and I mapped out together back when we were kids, scrawny and full of bright ideas. Back then we’d race through these tunnels, but Peggles always won, it’s in his blood.
A mutual appreciation of Beavis and Butthead was what sparked off the first conversation we ever had, back when we were 13, and my life has never been the same since.
Peggles is the third of four brothers raised by a dad who practically invented the old school. Their old man taught them how to hunt, how to build a bonfire and how to sit by it and drink yourself mad staring into the flames.
Peggles and his brothers are so fucking hardcore that the oldest signed up for the Royal Marines and became a Parabat. He served terms in both Afghanistan and Iraq a few years back when it was a bad fucking idea to be anywhere near either one of those places. He saw action, a shitload of it, he doesn’t speak about it much and we don’t ask questions, we’re just glad he came out alive.
I spent so many weekends and holidays growing up with those four brothers that I practically became part of the furniture in their house, and as a result, they know everything about me and have stood by me through every single one of the worst times of my life.
Peggles himself is more than proficient at basically everything. He has the intellectual capacity of a doctor and the physical strength and stature of a pro wrestler. Add a killer sense of humour, and natural tendency toward mischief into the mix and you have a guy who, at pretty much all times, is really fun to be around.
I respect Peggles, he’s bailed me out of a lot of kak over the years and has proven, beyond question, that he has my back.