Reading '99
On the first night, round our campfire, some young men stopped by who may have partaken in various intoxicating substances that day. They were kind enough to introduce us to their pet, "Bobby". Bobby, I must disclose now, was a small wood-and-metal fold-up chair.

They shared their enormous bottle of irn-bru with us then left to make more campfire companions.

Three days later, it's the morning we all have to leave, i'm lying in my tent thinking about all the reasons i don't want to have to get up and take it down, and I hear a piercing, truly anguished cry,

"NO! Someone's put bobby on the FIRE!!"

That gave me enough of a guffaw to help me out of my sleeping bag that morning. My condolences to Bobby's "parents" whoever you were.
( greenish, Sun 7 Jun 2009, 18:12, Reply)