Drunken voice message of Doom...
Some time ago when I lived in Brum I was working at a large media company where it was traditional to kick the arse out of it on Friday evenings, Dot Com boom and all. At the time there was a young lady, we’ll call her Blodwyn, at our establishment that had caught my eye, she had bumps in all the right places and interestingly enough was about 6’4’’ tall (I have a complete weakness for tall women! Mmmmmm….). Oddly enough, she hadn’t screamed when I started talking to her during the previous weeks, and seemed vaguely (I may be wrong) interested in this short balding Welshman.

One Friday saw about twenty of us drunk in the local pub, but it was getting late and the evening was being wrapped up. The lovely tall, really tall girl said that she was going home whereupon I gallantly volunteered to walk her home. Ulterior motive? Me? No, no, no. Slander, I say! But she refused! Bugger. (Sensible girl I think, looking back) It was at this point I colleague of mine, we’ll call him Tim, offered to walk her home as he was going in the same direction, and no, he didn’t have any thoughts in that direction, she was safe.

But I did know that he was completely unreliable, especially as he was also very drunk. So what did I do? I got home an hour later (God knows how!) and decided to ring his home number and ask if everything went okay. At least that’s what I thought I did….
Next morning at work I was sat at my desk in our large open planned office when Blodwyn came up to have a chat and we begin to compare hangovers. At this point I heard from the other side of the office “Hey Spango! You called us up last night so we recorded the message! HAHAHAHAHA!” Apparently, he lived in a shared house.

CLICK!

“Oi, Tim! This is Spango, you better have got her home all right otherwise you’re fucking dead! And you’ll know I’ll enjoy it! I’ll really, really hurt you.” plus other ranting and ravings, snorts and gibbers.
Of course, everyone in the office instantly realise what this is all about, Blodwyn however, sitting right next to me, did not.

“What’s going on? Why are they all laughing?”, looking at me all confused.

“No reason” I replied, as I slowly slid down my seat to curl up underneath my desk. I did not come out for a full half hour.

Funny enough, a week later a good friend of mine got hold of a copy of the message, sampled it and turned it into a bastardisation of Mel & Kim’s Respectable.
(SpangoTheWonderBadger is brewing beer, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 16:38, Reply)