Ahh memories
When we were younguns, me and my brother used to go to a nearby housing development which was very much in its early stages. We took upon playing there as an act of mild revenge for them destroying our tree house.

Anyway, the development was being readied and a whole mound of earth was piled up in the middle of nowhere. My brother and I were reading out our own, made up on the spot radio scripts down some massive pipes, making wonderful use of the echo.

I got bored, mainly because my brother moved from having a little radio station to just a big shout as many words as loud as you can session. I made my way up the huge mound of soil and sat at the top throwing things down at him.

I then unearthed something incredible, which will linger in my memory for years to come. I had found an old, dark green, very battered plastic soldier in a grenade-throwing position. I thought he was the best thing ever, even though his other hand had been broken off by undoubtedly many years of torture underground. I named him Acto, inspired by the Action Man I refused to like nor recommend be bought for me at Christmas time. Acto was of course much cooler than any toy from the shops, with his battle scars and mud smothered eyes, although I didn't admit this in public. Mum was a little concerned at how a filthy, deformed old toy soldier took pride atop my bedside table, shunning other such lovelies like the Slinky spring into an inferior role.

I think I still have him, too. Bugger knows where, though.
(Fuzzy, Fri 1 Jul 2005, 0:29, Reply)