true story because i say it is
i once seen a young boy crying i asked him what was wrong, he was lost, so i told him to follow me. I took him in the woods before rogering him and then i proceeded to murder him when it hit the news. the police questioned me so i blamed the village Asian man he went to jail i got away scot free but can not help thinking that i went to far i should of took the boy to the barn instead it was closer.
(branflakes, Sat 11 Nov 2006, 21:33, Reply)

going too far?
As i walked down the road to my local, i was lost in thought. it took a coupla miles of trudging my lonely trudge for me to get back to earth and realise that, as i looked up terrorstricken, there was nothing but wilderness around me. I was in the bush.
but then it dawned onto my frozen conscience that i lived outside of east fife.
Had i gone too far? hardly.
the fuckin' pub was still 4 miles away.
Good riddance to bad landscapes.
I now live in alice.
(monporn, Sat 11 Nov 2006, 20:30, Reply)

sorry
Click I Like This! Click I Like This! Click I Like This! Click I Like This! Click I Like This! Click I Like This! Click I Like This! Click I Like This! Click I Like This! Click I Like This! Click I Like This! Click I Like This! Click I Like This! Click I Like This! Click I Like This! Click I Like This!

Was that going too far?
(littlenipple hate's bad grammar, Sat 11 Nov 2006, 20:09, Reply)

Fire in the bin
This one time, at band camp...my friends Nick and Barnesy and I were in my room and thought it we would be fun to set my bin on fire, it was, until the carpet, think 70's nylon type material, started to melt. I panicked, Barnesy laughed, Nick flopped out his bad boy and I am still impressed all these years later that he managed to piss on demand the way he did.
Now, I dont know what I was more dismayed by, the ring of charred carpet, or the smell of my friends piss-steam......oh, happy days..
(moorph69, Sat 11 Nov 2006, 19:05, Reply)

Lamp-post Challenge
A few years ago me and some mates were at Riley's snooker in Dunfermline and missed the last bus home. So it was a six mile walk back. Along the way we passed East End Park, home to Dunfermline Athletic FC (c'mon The Pars), which was in the middle of having two new stands built. Somehow, two of the lads came across a workman's hard hat. And of course, one of them put it on. It was then that the best-ever alcohol fuelled idea came into our minds.

"Hey, Adie. Bet you can't run head first into every lamppost on the way home."
"Bet I can."

The challenge was on. And at first it was pleasantly amusing. Gentle runs at the lampposts were met with a soft thud and laughter all round as we moved onto the next lamppost. It was after the first ten or fifteen that the entertainment began. Encouraged by our "motivational musings", the run up become longer and more intense. The thud of head on metal become louder and the recoil from impact more exaggerated. Each walk from one lamppost became more and more unsteady, every word increasingly slurred from Adie's mouth. But the determination was now set in stone. This challenge would be completed, or so it would seem.

And there it was. After about forty or fifty lampposts, came a thing of beauty: a new bus shelter, which was only too enticing.

"Hey Adie, bet you can't add a few bus shelters along the way."
"IIIII bettt aaaa cannnn."

And with that, he turned, run across to the opposite side of the road and took on a full blooded (if woozy) run at the shelter and dived Klinsmann style with every last ounce of energy. Halfway through the dive the hard hat fell off. CRACK! Thick glass met unprotected head. Adie rebounded off the shelter into the middle of the road. As for us? Did we rush over and check he was OK? No, because we were pishing ourselves laughing on a grass verge. It took about a minute to regain our composure to check if he was still in the land of the living. To top it off we walked him home dismissing his complaints about having a sore head and needing to go to hospital. There was a hospital a few hundred yards from his last hurrah but we all called him a wuss, until he backed down and staggered home. His mum took him in next day.
(Rob Roy The Postie is looking for alternative employment, Sat 11 Nov 2006, 18:10, Reply)

The Long Summer Holidays....
Years ago we were bored in the summer holidays so we got upto some mischief.
There was a kid down the road called David who was a bit simple,we used to wind him up sometimes.One day we told him to phone the Fire Brigade ,he rang them three times in an hour ,and each time gave them his name and address,of course there was no fire,so the police turned up and he got a bollocking and his mum and dad were distraught...hahahaha!

Later that week at my mate andy's house ,his mum had just spent all morning preparing the flower bed for planting and then she went out to get the summer bedding plants.
In the lovely fresh earth we decided to dig a trench and make a dam and test it using the hosepipe.
It was great fun and we made a right mess of the flowerbed and I got sent home.

Later in the summer it got really hot and we were messing around with the hosepipe again,sticking it in our mouths and then turning the tap on,andy's sister joined in and stuck it up her nose,we turned the tap on ,the water went in,she shrieked and her nostrils were pouring with blood,she had to go to the doctor because it wouldn't stop,how me and andy giggled,his mum was not happy to say the least.
About a week later me and andy were messing around in his cellar,his dad kept all manner of stuff in there and we found some aerosol freezer spray,we were spraying it at each other and his sister,i sprayed it on my tongue and it hurt like hell!
Of course andy decides to go one better, flops out his piece,peels back the foreskin and sprays the freezer spray all over his bell-end!
Screams of agony,his mum comes rushing down into the cellar ,i get sent home and he ended up in casualty....
It must be a nightmare for parents in the summer holidays...hahahahaha.....
(sniffi the cat /remembers/this was /all fields..., Sat 11 Nov 2006, 18:02, Reply)

Pig Trampolining
My mates parents used to run a pig farm in the pre-divorce years and the Dad is a bit twisted in general. Being a large farm quite a few pigs would die, as they do. So he used to pull out the dead piggies from the pens and leave them for later collection, quite often for ages in baking sunshine. Duly the croaked piggies would swell up with gas and my mates Dad told us that if we jumped on the bellies we could use them as trampolines. It was ace fun until they popped.
(rodeopig, Sat 11 Nov 2006, 18:00, Reply)

nearly fatal
being quite young we had the 'great' idea to put dog shit under some guys car door handle,

we didnt hang around to see what happened and later found out that this shit was discovered by the guys son, who, unknown to us, had an illness that affects the bodys natual defences, turns out the kid could have died
(RandomMandela hellow, Sat 11 Nov 2006, 17:59, Reply)

cock mouth
i think its gonna have to be the time i first met one of my now friends, he was asleep at a house party haveing drunk too much... and i put my cock on his lips...and we videoed it... and he wastn happy when he saw it in the morning. still tho, pwned!

p.s no appologys for length and girth
(viva_le_boosh, Sat 11 Nov 2006, 17:53, Reply)

I'm Gonna Post So I Can Bitch at the End
Well there was thi lovely young child in my secondary school who was terrorized because his dad was unknown and he ran away from his mum.

So there was the basic who's your daddy and other things that involved making him cry on a regular basis. I even once did the hand bigger than the face cancer thing and broke his nose. Back to the story...

So it was all getting out of hand and began with the throwing of bagels at him and eventually the recording of Darth Vader saying "I am your father" being added to our french class cassette and it being played under exam conditions.

Now for the bitchy. Stop with the "ooh I went a great distance blah blah blah" that's just sad.
( Mr. Street, Sat 11 Nov 2006, 16:36, Reply)

In a Land, Far, Far, Far, Farhar-har-hardy away...
I once went to a land far, far away. And then I stopped taking the pills.

Rah.
( its_hatorah_bitch is b3ta the devil you know on, Sat 11 Nov 2006, 16:30, Reply)

More flatmate sabotage
A friend of mine (lets call him Neil) had fallen out so badly with his flatmate that they both decided to go thier separate ways & move back in with their parents. They hadnt come to blows or even had an argument but the pent up hatred for each other was intense.

On his last night at the house, I agreed to go on a pub crawl with him & sleep on his couch, basically have a celebration piss up that he would never see the twat he lived with ever again.

So we roll in later that night pissed as farts & I plonk myself down in from of the TV whilst Neil puts the kettle on. He soon calls me into the kitchen as he has been spitting in/on everything his flatmate had in the fridge and he had RUN OUT OF SPIT and needed my help to complete the job.

He (and me, i'm not proud) spat in everything, his milk, his organic grain mustard, his cranberry jelly, on his ham, everything. I knew Neil had gone too far when the next morning we wanted a cup of tea but couldnt remember which milk we hadn't spat in. Disgusting.

Neil also claims that I pissed in this poor guys open bottle of wine, but that would have been going waaay too far, I think he just wished I had.
( Colonel Dracula Two manky hookers and a racist dwarf, Sat 11 Nov 2006, 15:53, Reply)

Sorry
Sorry I'm late, I was at the dentist.
(DRAGONSLAYER, Sat 11 Nov 2006, 15:41, Reply)

The furthest I've gone
is from London to Sydney.

That is all.
( The Awful Puppy Bakery is still bored, Sat 11 Nov 2006, 15:38, Reply)

hey lady
As is the case with most teenage boys, growing up with a group of mates involves lots of knocks, jibes and japes at each other's expense. One of the guys at school received more than usual, mainly for his flowing golden locks that (when combined with an undercut hair style)looked like he'd just stepped out of a salon. Hence the name Pears Hair. Pears being an Australian shampoo brand at the time.

One night we all go to a game of footy and sit on the hill after some quality underage drinking in a nearby park. This results in all of us making comments at practically every female who walks past, usually things covertly shouted behind someone's back, witty things like 'tits' and 'show us your tits'.

Pears Hair, always eager to gain cred with the crew, spots a girl coming and sees his chance at glory. He jumps up, points, and yells 'HEY LADY...SHOW US YOUR FRONT BUM'.

The girl ran away while the entire hill looked at Pears Hair with jaws open. I think we all threw cans at him.
(heatmiser, Sat 11 Nov 2006, 15:13, Reply)

Maybe a little too far
Thought I'd tell you all a tale about a lad at my old college who used to get away with bunking off a lot. To preserve his identity we'll call him Bark Muckingham.
We were all annoyed that Bark got away with this due to his family problems (his parents were in the process of splitting up).
I decided enough was enough and having stolen some headed paper from college wrote a ridiculous letter to him stating that due to his continued and repeated absence from college he would no longer be able to achieve his mandatory attendance rate of 75%. Even if he attended all remaining lessons he would only achieve 74.7683456347783% and would therefore appreciate it if he could come into college at the earliest opportunity to discuss full repayment of all grant funds supplied to him over the 2 years he had been at college. Many thanks LY Dobbit (a made up name!).
The letter was dutifully sent out.
Unfortunately Bark's mother opened the letter and not understanding the ridiculousness of its contents contacted the college. They immediately recognized it as a joke and invited her in to college (to discuss bullying I presume). However she was left with the impression the letter was genuine so pulled her "husband" out of an important meeting some 400 miles away to attend the college discussion (resulting in a huge row).
Then Bark came home from "college" to find his dad and mum now rowing and hating each other he joined in the row and was thrown out of his home.
So there you go one letter equaled a completely destroyed marriage and Bark being made homeless.
Worst of all I nearly got thrown off my course.
Talk about the college taking it too far!!
(in prayer in prayer, Sat 11 Nov 2006, 14:55, Reply)

But I was only joking... I like gingers...
This was a few nights ago.
Some friends were round and we'd found enough energy to turn from the TV for some nattering and friendly jibes at each other.
Abby is a very slight girl, she's very moral but has a formidable well of eternal temper just beneath the surface. Which makes her the best person to wind up especially because she's got a schoolboy boyfriend who's ginger.
We were talking about the girl who'd been Alex's shadow all night, and how we couldn't believe he'd not shown the slightest interest in her.
His voice turned serious, "She was a fucking ginger."

Abby flinched.

The obligatory "How old's Adam now? Twelve?" jokes came out, and Alex, knowing full well she was a firm believer in the sanctity of Marriage, went on at length about how awesome sex is, how its stupid to wait, and how after sex its like there's a golden haze over the world.

She told him she was waiting for good reason, very obviously near the edge of her temper, but I couldn't help myself from pushing it "But come on, I think I'd be using any excuse to delay it if I was going to be losing it to a ginger..."

There were stifled laughs but, her face now bright red, Alex and I surely had to leave. My apologies saw no reply.
As soon as we were out of the house (and for the next half hour) Alex said "That was the best thing anyone has ever said. Ever."
( William MakesBeer poetman.co.uk, Sat 11 Nov 2006, 14:49, Reply)

QUOTE:
Damn, how many stories do I have about having "fun" with one of our house mates at school?

I don't know, but given X such stories, you have X too many of them.

The same goes for the rest of you.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sat 11 Nov 2006, 14:49, Reply)

Biology dissection again
Sheep's heart. Only one person in the whole class had refused to take part as she knew she absolutely could not stomach this. The day arrived as did 30-40 sheep's hearts, she refused point blank to take part in the dissection and debated this with the teacher.

Now for some reason, I'm not sure why the teacher must have decided that she HAD to atleast be there if not take part because she appeared not to have been allowed to leave. She got more and more pale every second, nowadays; a more sensitive man, I would have pittied her but at 14 I seemed to find this immensely amusing. In fact, so amusing did I find it that upon discovering you could stick you finger in the aorta and use the heart as a finger puppet I decided that she simply had to see my one man production. "Be my friend" the little heart puppet uttered in a voice strangely similar to my own and right next to her face, "be my friend, I love you" for added realism I wiggled my finger in time such that it gave the impression of speech.

That was definitely going too far especially when she ran outside and threw up all over the place. What do the critics know anyway, 'twas art, a beautiful and layered performance.
(StumpsForArms&NoEyebrows, Sat 11 Nov 2006, 14:09, Reply)

Godbox
Your posts are not very funny. Have I gone too far?
( HelloIamAdam and Adam is my name, Sat 11 Nov 2006, 14:02, Reply)

Raid
The building next to where I work, a food science lab, was going through renovations. I took a tour of it the other day. A lot of interesting things were going to be thrown away, like heaps of lab equipment. The man said "help yourself!" Seeing a great opportunity for art projects, I grabbed 2 friends and we went back, taking about 10 boxes of glassware and some old chairs. I ran into a couple of friends in the hallway who were sculptors and told them about the treasures in the other building's hallway that they might want to use for projects. Feeling like I had done a good deed by recycling all this doomed material felt great. I went out of town that evening.

I came back the next day to find out that my good deed had spread like wildfire and that night, about 100 people invaded the building, looting every room, lifting 8-foot cabinets, chairs, tables, a case of champagne, vintage wines, and the plans to the new building. The plans were returned - drawn on in Sharpie by some creative painter kid.

I got blamed for orchestrating this mass chaos (police were involved and everything) and I would have gotten into heaps of trouble...if my own boss hadn't been one of the raiders. Fuck, now i wish I had known about that champagne!!
(Alice, Sat 11 Nov 2006, 13:23, Reply)

Big John
Damn, how many stories do I have about having "fun" with one of our house mates at school?

He was called Big John as he was a humungous sack of yank crap. About 20 stone aged 16 and had a whiny yankee voice which used to drive us square nucking futs. Think Goober Pyle in Full Metal Jacket and you're about there. Anyway, I digress.

We used to pass the time playing pranks on Fatty. These ranged from buttering the inside of his pillow so he buttered his face in the night,(he used to sleep like the dead and snore like a buzzsaw), to creeping up on him as he was snoring and beating him with a 5' metal bar. The best was when we found his fluffy kitty toy and began to abuse it. It started by drawing all over it with marker pen and tearing its limbs off. Bear in mind that this is his prized toy that his dad gave him and was his only thing from home. We realised we needed to dispose of the evidence so we held a can of (his) deordorent and spraying the whole can into it. My mate then held a lighter to it upon which several things happened near simultaneously. John opens the door and sees his kitty about to be burned. Kitty explodes and mates arm is in middle of fire ball. John screams and charges him. Mate panics and throws flaming kitty out of a third story window where it hits a passing 6th former. John beats the shit out of mate where upon we all set about him and teach him the error of his ways.


Did we go too far?

Dunno but John's life bore an eerie similarity to that of said Pyle's and I beleive from what my mates told me after I left school that the result wasn't too far off either. Didn't waste himself, yet but became VERY odd and talked to himself alot.

Oops.


Sorry for the length but it's the girth that makes their eyes water.
(71 hour Ahmed wasn't working at, Sat 11 Nov 2006, 13:11, Reply)

The oldest trick in the book...
...took a big turn for the worse. We all went round to a friend's house after a big Uni bash and we were all hammered; comedy violence was in the air. The bucket-of-water-on-the-doorframe concept was picked as the best and, as I watched, shocked from the sofa on the other side of the room, a metal mop bucket FULL of water (it took 4 minutes to fill up) was resting on the frame and door. Then friend X shouted through to friend Y who opened the door, with said metal bucket clouting him on the head and knocking him clean out. For 3 minutes.

The water didn't touch him, but it certainly got friendly with the new carpet. However, my mate wasn't happy - here he had a knocked out pal on the floor with NO water on him - intended effect failing - and so decided, in all his wisdom, to piss on him, instead of refilling the bucket. That way, he roughly justified, "...he's still getting wet. Except this time it's my piss. And I can't be arsed to refill the bucket, or drag his fat arse into the puddle."

Needless to say that said friends don't really talk anymore.

Clicking "I like this" underneath this post doesn't mean you like pissing on people, by the way, so don't hesitate... (...and if you do, click it anyway)
( TGP on the rock 'n' roll, Sat 11 Nov 2006, 12:37, Reply)

my brother, a brilliant but fucked up individual
sold 2 of his dog's puppies to a 74 year old partially paralysed stroke victim and his 72 year old wife, who was confined to a wheelchair. He convinced them that the reason these 12 week old Jack Russels were so large was that they had only been fed on hormone laden chicken.

In reality, they were 5 week old blue heeler/staghound crosses.

Both of the other pups from the litter were put down before they were 12 months old for killing livestock.
(wallynothere rnot without protection, Sat 11 Nov 2006, 11:49, Reply)

I was on this comedy show..
with all the big performers.. it was a charity affair.. Anyway, me & these two asian guys dared each other to do an edgy sketch about Guantanamo Bay - I dressed as a soldier, they dressed as tourists.. It wasn't quite as smooth as my performance with Paul Simon back in the late 80's... But I definitely think we went too far.. Certainly Amnesty International didn't receive it in the spirit it was intended. Assholes. Mind you, we weren't a patch on that American chick - escavating your grandma's corpse for traces of semen? Thats cutting edge, people!
(godbox 3rd best prostitute in London, after mum & sis, Sat 11 Nov 2006, 11:47, Reply)

zzzlax.. geddit?
A couple of my friends used to self harm. Lets call me A, Best mate B, & third party C. Both of them harmers, but B & I found out about C when we were getting changed for a party & saw their scars. We liken friend C to a pokemon.. I'm worried to disclose this in case they guess.. But this pokemon (for those of you in the know..) sleeps a lot; & is lax. So I googles the pokemon & uses photoshop (crudely) to replicate the carving & email it to friend B. We laugh hysterically.
(godbox 3rd best prostitute in London, after mum & sis, Sat 11 Nov 2006, 11:42, Reply)

Cardiac arrest
Girl at school known for having had heart surgery as a kid. Big scars witnessed in P.E etc. Me & friend on fag break at the gates. Girl comes in late.

Girl: hey.
Us: hey.
Friend: Why you late then, skiving?
Girl: Oh no, I had a hospital appointment.
Friend: Ha - why? Did you have a heart-hhARM attack.. or something..?

Needless to say she cried.
And we laughed. Very, very hard.
(godbox 3rd best prostitute in London, after mum & sis, Sat 11 Nov 2006, 11:33, Reply)

You're Not The Boss Of Me!
At work I do a rather pathetic but very important job that only I am trained for. As a result, I ignore my legal rights and play nice by arranging all my holidays around said task. So its May this year and all attention is focused on the World Cup which England are definitely going to win (sob) and I'm trying to plan shifts. I manage to reach an agreement with my boss whereby I can come in when I want, for how long I want as long as this job gets done. At first she protests, in case there's problems and I'm needed but I casually remind her I can legally put in all my saved holidays and take the entire month off for footy goodness and leave them screwed so she reluctantly backs down, a little miffed. There's just one problem. I have to attend a meeting with area managers and deliver a presentation. I can't spit the dummy out on this one because it has to be done. So in the spirit of compromise I agree but remind her when England are playing and beg her to try and avoid those dates. She says she'll try her best but the glint in her eye screams of revenge for me pullng the legal blackmail routine.

Everything goes smoothly (with the exception of the poor performance and narrow win against Paraguay) and on the Thursday I finish work just after lunchtime safe in the knowledge that we'll be destroying Trinidad and Tobago that evening. By three o'clock the beers are in the fridge, the friends are all invited, the chairs and sofas are all positioned to face the telly in the front room, the barbecue is clean, the sun is shining and the steaks are slowly coming to room temperature. Thats when the phone rings. It's the boss. She casually informs me that the area managers have just turned up and I have to come back and deliver the presentation.
"On the day of the England match?' I growl in accusation.
"Oh is it? I'm sorry, I didn't realise." She replies. Her voicing dripping with insincere remorse. "Well you might have time to watch it, they're not arriving until 5." She says sweetly.
"The exact time it kicks off???" I accidentally shout.

I don't consider it going too far that I hung up on her. I definitely don't consider it too far that in my fury I quickly re-edited the presentation and chopped it from thirty minutes to just five and I certainly don't think its too far to mentally prepare myself to answer all questions with just one word and refuse to expand. What I do think was going too far was my boss, after the beers had been removed from the fridge and replaced with the steaks, the barbecue being wheeled back into the garage, the living room being put back and the friends all being uninvited, ringing me five minutes before I left the house and beginning the conversation with the immortal line "I can't believe you were going to fall for that!" and laughing her arse off at me. After several exasperated "WHAT?"'s she told me the area managers had cancelled on them and postponed till next month and one of my collegues had told her I was so nice (and gullible) I'd agree to come in even if she pretended it had been arranged for the exact time of the England match.

BASTARDS.
( Gleeballs is mostly made out of chocolate and hate., Sat 11 Nov 2006, 10:07, Reply)

Erm, did you just say that???
Usually Im the bloke who takes things too far, its sort of my talant, but one memorable time that sticks out in my mind was a few years back. My best mates mum had just died and understandably was a little upset. To try and "cheer him up" a bit I decided to take him out for a few drinks, so off we toddled down to the boozer for a few light ales. All was going swimingly well untill friend number 2 enters (he shall remain nameless). I could tell that the next statement out of his mouth was gonner be harsh cause of the dumb-ass grin on his face as he toddled up to us. I braced for impact as he opened his mouth...."Allright lads, hey its bloody dead in here tonight aint it"

Nice I thought....took me the rest of the night to convince my buddy not to kill the moron...in hind sight I should have let him slap him around a bit!!!!
(lordfish ,Master of the Mushroom People, Sat 11 Nov 2006, 9:46, Reply)

Scarring The Children
A close friend of mine is a forty odd mother of three boys (aged 7-13) and I've always enjoyed listening to her rather dubious parenting methods (this may be based on a feeling of nostalgia and camaraderie being that at the age of four I was a biter, which my mother corrected by waiting until I bit her and then turning round and biting me so hard she drew blood. It worked incidentally, but thats another story). Anyway, the eldest had started tormenting the youngest by scaring him repeatedly. He'd hid behind the curtains in his room and jumped out screaming at him as soon as he'd got settled in bed, resulting in a rather damp mattress. He'd curled himself up inside a cupboard and waited nearly an hour for his brother to open it so he could jump out screaming at him, resulting in his brother runnning away so madly in panic that he fell down the stairs and narrowly avoided braining himself on a radiator. Finally, and maybe this was going too far, after their mother had allowed them to watch Psycho, later in the day the poor little youngster had gone to the toilet and almost as soon as he'd sat down the shower curtain flew open revealing his brother wearing one of his mother's dresses, a shower cap and brandishing a kitchen knife. Apparently a seven year old spazzing out and running away mid-toilet usage produces many new and interesting bodily function related stains that you wouldn't believe.

When the mother told the eldest to apologise the only response she got was huge disappointment that the youngest wasn't getting in the shower when it happened just so it could be like the film. With the youngest now wandering around in permanent shellshock, too afraid to open cupboards, go to the toilet on his own and now sleeping with his parents every night, their mother decided some serious parenting was required. So, what did she do? Grounding? No pocket money? Naughty step? Good old fashioned kicking? Of course not. Being parent of the year, she let the eldest go to bed whenever he wanted. So she waited until he was engrossed in a late night computer game marathon. She turned all the lights off in the house and sat for half an hour in the dark in the living room waiting until she heard him go to the bathroom, knowing he'd see the darkness and presume the rest of the family had turned in for the night. Once this was achieved she began her mission.

This forty odd year old PARENT commenced commando crawling on her stomach from the front room, up the stairs and towards his bedroom. She told me it took her two hours to complete her mission as she wanted to remain totally quiet as she inched her way up the stairs. Including having to stop for ten minutes and bury her face in the carpet to avoid detection as he went for a shit. She gradually made it to his bedroom and opened the door a centimetre or so every thirty seconds in case he looked round. Door opened, she could just say see him sitting on his bed, back to her, completely engrossed in his games, so she continued edging towards him until finally she was under his bed, staring at the back of his legs. With a scream of 'GOTCHA' in a suitably low, growly voice she grabbed the back of his ankles as hard as she could. Apparently this resulted in several things all happening at once. The 13 year old screamed like a girl, jumped up, wet himself, then tried to run away without realising someone was holding his ankles, falling forwards and knocking himself out as his head hit the floor.

Going too far? Personally I think him coming to, still wailing, five minutes later to find his mother standing over him, the lights now on howling with laughter at him might have just been pushing it. I think she realised this when, for the next week, she and her husband shared their bed with both the youngest and the eldest. "He never did it again though!" She told me triumphantly at the end of her story. "Funny that." Was all I could think of to say....
( Gleeballs is mostly made out of chocolate and hate., Sat 11 Nov 2006, 9:18, Reply)