Where's the chalk?
I'm being forced to post this, or someone is going to beat me up, so if you don't like it, tough, fuck off. That includes anyone who read about this in Private Eye in 1973 or such-like, just enjoy it for what it is, rather than as a forensic account of eyewitness statements from an actual documented incident.
That said, I'm sure it has happened to somebody, and I can see no reason why it wouldn't have been the dipshit I'm about to nominate.

So, this tale involves a hapless bloke I know, who has the misfortune to look just like Trigger from "Only Fools and Horses", and is pretty much on a par with the character intellectually. This chap is one of those people who wants to be "a face" so badly, but hasn't got the brawn, brains or luck to be known as a "tasty geezer" round town.

That doesn't stop him pushing his luck, almost always with the wrong people, who will subsequently beat seven bells out of him, almost out of pity. Time after time he will appear, sporting magnificent injuries, epic shiners, from what he claims were "deals gone bad", but everyone knows were when he picks on a weedy looking bloke with glasses in the chip shop who turns round and batters him. (Chip shop, batters, see what I did there?) He's hopeless, a gangster wannabe, but never-gonna-be.

Anyway, I was told once of the time he was haunting the local snooker halls, they were his turf, he was trying to be Ronnie Kray, but was more Ronnie Corbett.

There was apparently some sort of disagreement with a gentleman who was half man, half gorilla, and who threw our Trigger out of his snooker rooms, to gales of laughter. Our Trig was having none of that, so went back to teach Mongo a lesson.
This man must have been an intimidating sight, because Trig was under no illusions, he knew he'd not stand a chance against him face-to-face.
So, he came up with the brainwave of marching up behind the apeman and twatting him over the head with a sock containing a couple of snooker balls. Pretty good call, I imagine, it's going to be Lights Out for most people when they are biffed unawares like that.

Trig psyches himself up, marches into the hall and sees the creature enjoying his game at the far end. Trig is like an Exocet now, targetted, unstoppable (but not French), and he kicks off one of his fake Italian loafers from the market, whips off his sock, and launches. Swiping up a couple of snooker balls into the sock as he passes a table, he raises his cosh, and can't resist calling out "Here, have some of this, you cunt..." as he strikes...

Unfortunately, our Trig is not only brainless, he is generally penniless too, and has neglected to waste good lager money on new socks anytime in the past decade. This means that as he calls out his taunt, the snooker balls are popping through the threadbare toes of the sock and bouncing away behind him, leaving him to dish out a ferocious clubbing with a flaccid sock alone.

I'm told that Trigger pissed himself when the apeman turned, stood up straight, and lifted the smelly article from the throbbing vein on his forehead. You can imagine the rest...
(Rsoles, Mon 18 Mar 2013, 22:15, 4 replies)

Hahaha, YES!
Although I'm not sure I'd have beaten you up had you not told it... I still remember the time we moved that piano - well, YOU moved that piano, I was there :)
(Professor Kenny Martin Hmm? What?, Tue 19 Mar 2013, 10:18, closed)

Do you know
That they made that into an advert for PG Tips?

"You hum it, I'll play it "
(Rsoles, Tue 19 Mar 2013, 18:56, closed)

Marvellous stuff.
*click*
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Tue 19 Mar 2013, 11:15, closed)

Fake as a two quid note,
But splendidly told and deserves a click.
( sir_spicious2000 Crap I've watched: www.filmplop.blogspot.com/, Tue 19 Mar 2013, 13:05, closed)