Why you shouldn't mess with Ouija Boards
Way back when I was a teenage ScousersPet, I was somewhat desperate to get into the pants of a cute gothy chick called Naomi. Woo had been pitched for some time, with no success. During our long, deep and meaningful (yeah right, we mostly talked about Iron Maiden) conversations it had emerged that she was into the occult and I had claimed to be as well, in a pathetic attempt at seeming cool.

One day, she suggested that we should try to "contact the other side" using a Ouija board. Thing is, she said we need four people for it to work. She could bring her mate so I needed to find a willing fourth. At that point, my best mate wa sa lad called Ben, he was from a strict Evangelical familly from a very supersticious part of Nigeria, so he took some persuading to come along, but I told him Naomi's mate was fit and that seemed to change his mind. It was on.

The "seance" was due to take place in my bedroom, so I prepared a suitable atmosphere by puttinf red crepe paper (i think that's what it's called) over the lightshade, to bathe the room in an eerie, Satanic glow. Top.

All parties arrived, the board was produced, blessed (!?) and spirits were invoked. We quickly established contact with the ghost of a woman who had lived in the house 100 years previously. Despite m6y skepticism, there didn't seem to be any pressure being applied to the planchette (the pointer thingy), yet very clear answers were being given to our inane questions. Things were getting a touch spooky.

Then things started taking a turn for the freaky. The answers started getting a bit angry and, unprompted, the spirit asked to be allowed to leave, which we refused, wanting more answers. The room chilled and it seemed that the birds outside the window had stopped singing.

Suddenly, there was a flash and flames started falling on the board, as if from nowhere.

I shit out and bolted for the door, which opened inwards. As I went to open it, all 6'4", 15-stone of muscle, part time bouncr of Ben barreled into me, screaming like a banshee. He pinned me between himself and the door and I heard a nasty splintering sound. I thought it was the door at first, but the massive pain in my wrist revealed that it was actually my wrist that had splintered. It my turn to scream.

Behind us, we heard a nearly hysterical laughter. We both turned and saw the girls pissing themselves and pointing upwards. We looked towards the ceiling, terrified as to what we might see. Remember that red crepe paper? Well it turns out that you shouldn't tape it next to a 100w bulb, as it tends to catch fire and fall on anyone underneath it.

And THAT, ladies and gentlemen, is why you shouldn't mess with the occult...
(ScousersPet, Mon 7 Jul 2008, 11:36, Reply)