If You've Got A Problem And No One Else Can Help.....
When I was about five I started a semi-cult based on the the fantabulous A-Team. I say cult, it was more of a game where we pretended to be the A-Team, but at five you take these things quite seriously. I was Hannibal (natch, candy cigarette instead of a cigar and generally 'loving it' when plans came together). Of my two friends, Owen had already bagged Mr. T (despite him being tiny and a smidge too white, but still he pitied the foo' on a regular basis) and Nicholas was Murdock (he generally howled and told everyone how mad he was without ever really backing it up with any sort of proof).

The problem was that they were the only two other boys in my street so we had to indoctrinate a girl (eeeuwww!) into our little cult to be Face (a tad disappointing that we couldn't afford his/her corvette, but then again our A-Team van was just a cardboard box). This was the point it all went really cultish as we decided we would have to have an initiation before we allowed her in. This is the reason why, at the age of five, Hannibal, Murdock and B.A. Barracus were all convicted of a crime they did commit and sentenced to a good hiding and being sent to bed early. Namely the crime of the majority of the A-Team showing Face their willies in the mistaken belief that Face would, in turn, show us her fanny.

I suspect that Colonel Decker was crouched in a nearby bush and grassed us up. The twat.
( Gleeballs is mostly made out of chocolate and hate., Mon 30 Jan 2006, 16:55, Reply)