English rage....
One wet and miserable afternoon where the heavy leaden skies merged with the grimy cityscape I decided a bit of Hollywood escapism was needed.

As is traditional when wanting to watch a film I deposited myself in the sticky floored chav breeding ground that is the modern multiplex.

Upon entering the theatre it was already dark as I had spent ten minutes explaing to a pus filled dimwit of a sweet vendor that his popcorn had risen in price by more than 17% in the last year tracking way above inflation and that I was loath to part with almost £5 for something that is 50% air.

Alas my lamentations and sound economics fell of deaf ears and I parted his company with a small bag of popcorn, a heavy debt and a seething resentment towards anything and anyone involved in the corn or corn popping industries.

I took my seat and resolved to enjoy the film with no more ire inducing episodes. This was not to be the case foir behind me seemed to be the noisiest people in the world.

Snippets of whispered conversation buzzed around my head like so many malarial mosquitoes, the incessant crackle and crunch of sweet bags felt as loud as gufire, the soft sucking of humbugs pulled at the marrow in my bones the and random kicking of the back of my seat did little to ease my back pain.

I should have asked nicely for some peace and quiet, but past experience had taught me that these dark dwelling monsters would only increase their attacks if provocked with reasonable requests. Hence I sat and I seethed for felt like hours, I balled up my rage in a way only an emotionally stunted Englishman can.

Like Krakatoa the pressure became too much and I exploded! Swivelling around in my chair a shouted in no uncertain terms for this utter shower of shits to, and I quote, "SHUT THE FUCK UP BEFORE I RIP YOUR FUCKING HEADS OFF!"

All was silent, for a brief second I thought I had done the impossible and won against the tyranny of teenagers. Unfortunately as my eyes adjusted to the dark I saw quivering chins and frightened watery eyes.

In a line sat 6 very scared and on the verge of tears children with Down Syndrome. My heart absolutely sank. Their carer lent forward and apologised only making things worse, i begged her and the children's forgiveness and sank so deeply into my seat that my arse got stuck to the fetid sticky floor. It was where I belonged. I have never felt so guilty.

Luckily after the movie I managed to apologise properly to all involved and we all went away happy, but I have learnt how stupid it is to let the rage grow inside you and to release it with out doing some pre flight checks.

*starts walking to hull*
( Naked Ape call me Caitlyn, Mon 31 Dec 2007, 10:28, 6 replies)

call me a pedant ...
but from your style of writing you'll probably appreciate this :P

* it's pus not puss unless you thought he was full of cats
* marrow has two "r"'s (that could be a typo on your part though)
* and it's "past experience" not "passed experience"

as for the story, well ... there have been plenty times ive wanted to do exactly the same, now i know to check who i am bollocking beforehand! :D
(zenmeban thinks the weather could be better, Mon 31 Dec 2007, 11:59, closed)

another hint
is not to smoke a left-handed cigarette before taking your seat. Saw the Bootleg Beatles on the 23rd, partook of "refreshment" in the interval, second half some shower of CUNTS are talking through 'Paul' playing 'Blackbird'. Could have cheerfully killed them, and of course the dope made the sounds even more intrusive.
Personally, I think all cinemas and live venues should tell people to SHUT THE FUCK UP or get ejected - "Ratatouille" was ruined for me by some kids talking, I did go over and berate them but it did no good. Did the same at a Crowded House concert a few years ago, got thanked by members of the audience *nearer* to the offenders than I was who were obviously unable to tell them themselves to show consideration for others.
I hate people who talk in cinemas or live music venues and hope that their genitals drop off in 2008. Rant over
( I_Was_Mordred, Mon 31 Dec 2007, 12:01, closed)

on a slightly similar note
I once wore my Ralph Snart "Danger Danger - mental defective" t-shirt to the swimming pool. When I was dressing afterwards I had to put it on inside out because of the classload of downs kids who'd turned up. I slunk out very sheepishly.
(trevorthecat, Mon 31 Dec 2007, 15:44, closed)

The Rage must be let out.
The identity of the rage-victims is less important than the rage-worthiness of their behaviour. This was an appropriate deployment of rage.
(Seance Trumpet has got no beef with a man enjoying a croissant, Mon 31 Dec 2007, 17:10, closed)

Anoher pedant
Hate to "chip in" , but you want "peace" and not "piece" as in "I should have asked nicely for some peace and quiet"

Good story though..
(lochii, Mon 31 Dec 2007, 19:04, closed)

Woo
It's the B3tan grammar club!

You know, if teachers let the kids read B3ta we'd sort the illiterate bastards out in quick time.

And personally, I think we might have a winner here - or at least a Best Of page.

Clicks and cheers
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Tue 1 Jan 2008, 6:56, closed)