Unfortunate Bob
Bob was a boy in my class at primary school. 'Unfortunate Bob' we called him, due to his highly impoverished background and low intelligence. Not for Bob, things like reading, writing, or weekends away with the family. His was a simple life of Dairylea, illiteracy, and the occasional fight – one of the few things at which he excelled. He had no real friends, and no real enemies. He was just there, being unfortunate.

Through some quirk of that age, my friends and I incorporated him into our circle for a few weeks one summer. Our stomping ground were the fields and brook near my house, and many an idle day was squandered throwing bricks in cow pats or jumping from trees into hay bales.

Bob, being knew to the clique, suggested one day that we explore beyond our usual four-field perimeter

Nervous glances were shared between the three of us in the know.

"What's up?" asked Bob.

"The haunted barn's in the next field along," I explained. "And even if you don't get as far as the barn, the farmer's always watching with his binoculars. I swear down, he'll chase you and bollock you. Called the police on my brother not long ago. Swear down."

Unfortunate Bob, though, was as bold as he was thick. "What, that old place? I'll go in there," he announced. "Not scared of anything, me." My friends and I muttered quietly, and decided we'd watch from the barbed wire fence. We weren't fools. Headless horseman had been spotted riding around that barn recently, and my brother swore he'd seen the apparition of Dead Steve there (Dead Steve was a local man who, unsurprisingly, had once been found dead. He didn't get up to much after that.)

Fresh faced and eager, Unfortunate Bob clambered over the fence and squat-ran like a mongy commando 100ft through tall grass .. to the haunted barn. From a distance, we watched as he scuttled around in his tracksuit, looking for a doorway. He disappeared round the corner.

Five minutes went by.
Ten minutes.
Twenty fucking minutes.

We began to fret. Should we go and get him? What if something had fallen on him and he's trapped? What if something GOT him? Over the next sixty seconds the three of us worked ourselves up into the kind of terror frenzy that only a child's imagination can create and sustain. Eventually, pacing and crying, I got the courage to break the spell and scream "BOOOOOOBBBBBBBBBBBBB!!!!!!!!!!!"

"Alright lads!" he chortled as he strode back into view, swinging an old dead rabbit round his head. "It's eyes are out! Funny as fuck!"

Bob, you were a spastic.
( Wet-chinned bag shanker Cannot parse Wogan, Thu 14 Apr 2011, 14:30, 3 replies)

"like a mongy commando"
Click!
(sarcastic fringehead feet of clay, buns of steel, head of lettuce, Thu 14 Apr 2011, 14:58, closed)

I know not why I...
*click*
(Thebigfella, Thu 14 Apr 2011, 15:10, closed)

"boy goes to barn, finds rabbit"

( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Thu 14 Apr 2011, 15:20, closed)