Tombstoning for First-Schoolers
Back in my salad days – before I had discovered the wonders of alcohol, so unfortunately there are no mitigating factors – my friends and I would every so often invent playground games when things like tig got too tedious. On this occasion I had a brilliant idea, utilising the large wall which separated the upper and lower halves of the school. The name, you ask? “Lemmings”. Its simplicity was its brilliance so far as we were concerned, and we gleefully hurled ourselves off it into the football game that the less cerebrally challenged kids were playing below. Every five minutes or so we would be warned against it by an indifferent lunchlady, and every five minutes or so we’d get right back to chucking ourselves off. This game was always going to end in tears, so I suppose as its inventor it’s only fitting that they were mine; when my turn came, I took a running leap and launched myself off, noticing too late that a football player had strayed into our drop zone.

Sorry, folks, for another “I-knocked-my-front-teeth-out” story. Length? Probably half a second or so. But the crunch was impressive…
(fornrit eaþe tosliteð þætte næfre gesomnad wæs, Tue 1 Jan 2008, 20:03, Reply)