The scall is basically the predecessor of the chav, and is most commonly found in parks, alleys, street corners (or anywhere roughly 90 degrees) in Liverpool. Like the chav, the scall is subhuman, with absolutely no redeeming features whatsoever, and its "uniform" consists of a monochrome tracksuit (lacoste if the scall has access to cash, nike if it hasn't) or hoodie with the hood always up, trainers, and skinhead. They hang out in huge gangs, though as to who organizes these vast meetings is a complete mystery, as the scall possesses a vocabulary the size of a greenfly's kneecap, and the little speech that can be distinguished is often lazily slurred beyond all comprehension. You had better be ready for abuse when passing one of these gangs, though only when they outnumber you so vastly that there is little you can do. Despite many scalls being 4 feet tall adolescents, they have this inconceivably deluded idea that they are in fact hard, and if ever you have the misfortune to become the target of its horrifically foul mouth, you could be forgiven for thinking that you had upset a 7 feet tall, 350lb street fighter (if you were to shut your eyes). Scalls invariably refer to each other as "lad", and spit and swear as frequently as normal people blink. In short, the scall is a cowardly, ignorant, abusive and fundamentally loathesome creature who should do everyone with an ounce of decency a favour and just die.
Quit calling me "lad", you fucking scall
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