Priests
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In the olden days, beating children wasn't frowned upon like it is these days. In fact, it was positively encouraged. Everyone used to take a swing at you. Teachers - I've been beaten with canes, slippers perspex rods, had wooden blackboard rubbers hurled at me and been zapped on the forehead by lethally sharp lumps of chalk. Any adult in the street who, if you were cheeky to, would give you a few kicks up the arse and a few slaps across the head. And it was no use going crying to mum 'cos she'd belt you as well for setting your lip up in the street.

So I was used to violence from adults and was used to avoiding it where I could.

So this one year, at the end of summer, it was scrumping time. That meant sneaking into peoples orchards and nicking the apples and pears. Previous experience and lore passed down from older siblings meant that we new which gardens to avoid - like Mr fucking Sibley's. Childhood rumour had it that he used to push old razor blades into his apples and, any kid who bit into one of these, would have his jaw sliced open. Mr Roger's garden was out as he was a fucking sadist who's spend hours in his garden shed with an air rifle just waiting for us. That one I knew was true as the bastard had shot me in the back the year before. Old Man River's was out - his garden had so much barbed wire in it that it looked like the Somme so it was down to me, the thinker of the group, to find out a target to raid.

The Priests garden. High walls to be sure but he was a *priest*! I'm sure it was written somewhere that he wasn't allowed to hit people. He was a man of God. And Jesus loved the little children so, my reasoning went, even if we got caught he wouldn't belt us.

Only one way to find out. APPLE RAID!!!!!

At first it all went well. We swarmed over his wall like a wave of under-sized ninjas and dropped into his garden. We hid in the bushes for a while, looking for signs of movement, but concluded that it was safe. So we dashed for the apples trees and started grabbing all the fruit we could reach and dropped it into our pulled-out jumpers. Then a branch snapped with a loud "CRACK" and the backdoor flew open.

An avenging demon stood there. An avenging demon in a dress( well, cassock) who was pissed in both senses of the word. With an incoherent scream he flew out of his door way and started lashing out with a walking stick.

I was quickly felled, I thought he'd broken my back, and he left me to pursue the rest of the gang around the garden. A couple got away but three of us were lying incapacitated from blows from that fucking stick. The he came back and dragged us all into a pile and really taught us the meaning of God's Vengeance. He beat the living shit out of us.

Eventually he either tired or needed another drink and kicked us out of the back gate into the street.

Never liked priests since. I'm still *fucking sure* that the bible says that he wasn't allowed to do that......

Conclusion of experiment?

Don't fuck with men in skirts.

Cheers
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Sat 26 Jul 2008, 7:34, 7 replies)

Of course nowadays we are all aware that priests are bastards.
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( girlinthehole, Sat 26 Jul 2008, 10:53, closed)

Over some fcking APPLES?!?
I'm sure the priest couldn't have eaten all of them himself.
(BrainSurgerysFun, Sat 26 Jul 2008, 16:06, closed)

The skirt rule applies to scots as well
if you go around in a country where it snows all year around and the national dress is a skirt with no underwear where the national flower is waist heigh thistles
you're going to be a bit tough
(Freddles, Sat 26 Jul 2008, 16:45, closed)

Or, you know...
Don't steal other people's property. They may have just been "just apples" as the person above implied, but they were his and it was his property you cheeky buggers.
( vix0r was not Matthew on, Sat 26 Jul 2008, 21:23, closed)

Have you actually *read* the Bible?
If he was a truly following the example of the Holy Book, count yourself lucky that he didn't stone you to death (Dueteronomy 21:18-21) or set bears on you for taking the piss (2 Kings 2:23-24).
( Amish Information Systems hates misplaced, commas, Sat 26 Jul 2008, 21:27, closed)

Say What?
.
You mean the fuckers keep *BEARS*...

Lucky escape.

Cheers
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Sun 27 Jul 2008, 1:36, closed)

This reminds me...
...some mates of mine from 6th form lived just up the road from Spike Milligan (in Whetstone). Of course we now know that the comic genius was also bi-polar and prone to fits of depression. Perhaps that's why he fired an air rifle at my mates as they scrumped in his garden. Aparantly, and I find this easy to believe, he had quite an imaginative and fluent vocabulary too.

p.s. they did this a few years before I met them in the 6th form you'll be pleased to hear.
(Che Grimsdale Best before:, Mon 28 Jul 2008, 9:46, closed)