In Darkest Dresden
Edit: Here's the original story as told by my brother here on B3ta 2 years ago.

Cheers



Many moons ago I was a loyal servant of the Queen (Gawd Bless ‘Er), a fearless fighting soldier holding the borders of Germany against the menace of the Slavic Horde. Every year we were sent out into the countryside to lurk in the bushes, waiting for Ivan to come storming through the Fulda Gap, massed tank divisions of the Red Army poised to cut a bloody path to the Rhine. Every exercise season my unit lurked in the forests on Minden Ridge, passing the time away in time honoured tradition, eg, bullying new recruits, winding up officers and stealing each other’s turds.

Yep, that’s right, stealing turds. There are no toilets deep in the forest, and before the arrival of German contractors with their portaloos the solution was to grab a shovel, wander off into the bushes, dig a little hole, crap into it, then tidily fill it in before groping your way back to the tank laagers.

All the old soldiers took great delight in winding up the new boys. We used to warn them of the dangers of the deep German forests, strange animals that hid in the undergrowth, so starving they would eat the shit out of your arse before it hit the ground. Then ply them with illicit lager, crates of Herforder Pils hidden strategically in the ammunition lockers, topped up with bottles of Apple Korn and Jagermeister which all good squaddies have stashed away. Eventually one of these lads would stand up and fart, grab a shovel, and stumble off into the darkness….and the hunt was on!!!!

We would take our own shovel and follow, using our superior fieldcraft skills to silently creep up on the unsuspecting rookie, waiting for him to dig his hole, drop his trousers and squat over to drop his lot. Then snake forward, quietly reach forward with the shovel, place it strategically to catch whatever came out, then quietly withdraw with the spoils. There’s not a man alive who doesn’t turn to inspect his turds after crapping in the forest. But on looking into the hole, there’s a severe lack of evidence, even though he knows he’s just unloaded a good kilo of crap somewhere. So where the fuck is it?

The hardest part is not to laugh when watching this dickhead searching for his missing turds. The red-screened torch would come on, he’d pat the grass with his hands, walk in ever-increasing circles, then start flailing the bushes with his shovel. ‘Get out of it, you little shit-eating bastards!! Where the fuck are you?’ At this point we would fade silently into the background and leg it back to the camp, so by the time he found his way back we would be sitting quietly as before. As he excitedly poured out his story we would all look serious, wonder aloud about ‘Spetsnaz Infiltrators’, then get him to repeat his story ad infinitum, each repetition growing in detail about ‘noises in the bushes’, or ‘something moving in the shadows. Or even, God Save us, ‘a strange smell of corrupt flesh’. The more gullible among them could even be induced to write up an official ‘Contact Report’.

Guarding the West against the Red Menace that never so much fun again.

All true, as God is my witness.
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Tue 18 Dec 2007, 23:34, 6 replies)

now that one I've heard before :)
Tis a classic though :D
( Jeccius Steam Borderlands 2 junkie, Wed 19 Dec 2007, 0:35, closed)

Probably on here
I think my brother posted it a year or so ago
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Wed 19 Dec 2007, 0:40, closed)

I've heard it here too!
Still funny ^-^
( vix0r was not Matthew on, Wed 19 Dec 2007, 0:49, closed)

I hearby dub the brother
Turd Burglar.

He must now change his user name to reflect this.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Wed 19 Dec 2007, 5:09, closed)

No way
on earth could I sneak up on someone and burgle turds. They'd hear me snuffling and giggling before they ever got their kecks down.
(TDub Nunc id vides, nunc ne vides on, Wed 19 Dec 2007, 7:12, closed)

Did I read that correctly?
"... [H]e’d pat the grass with his hands..."

Gotta love the infantilitry...
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Wed 19 Dec 2007, 10:08, closed)