Trigger
You’d like Trigger. Although he’s not spectacularly bright (hence his somewhat predictable moniker), he represents the eternal optimist in each of us, unbowed by occasional ineptitude or haplessness.

You have to admire his tenacity of spirit which keeps him motivated when everyone else around him is screaming “for fuck’s sake Trigger, why don’t you just throw in the towel and admit defeat?”. Trigger’s DIY ineptitude is born of a willing heart, usually with the intention of treating his long suffering wife to another home improvement. Somehow her plea of “let’s just get the professionals in love?” always goes unheeded.

One bright and sunny Friday, he waltzed into his workplace and announces that he’s going to spend his sizeable quarterly bonus on a self assembly pagoda so that his wife could entertain her friends in the garden - that very weekend in fact, for the pagoda kit was being delivered early on Saturday morning and the weather forecast was looking promising. The numerous sniggers and guffaws from his mocking colleagues didn’t dampen his enthusiasm one iota, for he spent his lunch break canvassing his colleagues’ advice on each part of the project as they all poured over the plans.

“You wanna make sure the foundations are up to the job” said one

“Tell you what, I’ll sketch out the dimensions of the holes you’ll need to dig for you” suggested another, helpfully.

Fifteen minutes later, the depth and dimensions of the required foundations were detailed on a sheet of A4 which was then stapled to the instructions. Surely nothing could possibly go wrong…

Nine O’clock the following morning found Trigger outside, shovel in hand digging away like a happy navvy, meticulously re-reading his colleagues’ instructions and measuring the plots to the exact centimetre. By lunchtime, he’d dug four large holes to sink the legs of the pagoda into and had worked out exactly how much cement he was going to need. Contrary to popular prediction, Trigger’s arithmetic was flawless. Trigger was somewhat surprised as to how much cement would be required, but driven by ambition of making his wife happy, he was keen to do a proper job. Off to B&Q he went.

An hour later and Trigger returned home, making an awful din because the creaking suspension of his Ford Ranger pickup was scraping against the driveway. The reason why the pickup had a distinctly nose-up stance was because there was a whopping half a ton of cement in the back of it.

By six O’clock, the four legs of the pagoda had been sunk into the holes and the cement had been poured in around them. By the following afternoon, he was ready to fit the roof, so he phoned one of his workmates who duly arrived to help. By Sunday evening the pagoda was finally complete. His wife could look forward to many summers of civilised garden parties. You really didn’t expect it to be that easy did you?

“Your wife’s mates had better be fucking dwarves, Trig” said his friend as they turned a critical eye to their handiwork.

Indeed, the roof of the pagoda stood barely five feet above the ground. Only the severely vertically disadvantaged and experienced limbo dancers would be able to make full use of it.

“I don’t understand where we went wrong…” said Trigger, scratching his head as he reread the plans and the dimensions for the foundations, anxiously searching for some missing piece of the jigsaw that would explain the structure’s lack of altitude.

“You fucking stupid prick Trigger...”

The answer dawned as Trigger reread the plans one final time.

The dimensions for the foundations had been sketched in feet and inches.

The instructions for the pagoda were in metres.

Each leg was (and still is) encased in a square metre of now rock hard cement and obviously going absolutely nowhere. Even a JCB would have a hard time digging this out.

Two and a half grand is an awful lot of money to spunk on a concrete reinforced wendy house.
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Fri 22 May 2009, 12:29, 9 replies)

I laughed....
....but I also want to buy Trigger a beer. And maybe pat him on the back.
( The Pollitt chooses to listen to Enya on, Fri 22 May 2009, 12:41, closed)

this
uplifted the corners of my mouth
on a otherwise drab Friday morning at work

*click*
(Cov Boy, Fri 22 May 2009, 12:44, closed)

Click for this
You're making me laugh so much that my boss is questioning me from the next room over as to whats so funny.
(Ghost Atreides enjoying incontestable health benefits on, Fri 22 May 2009, 12:56, closed)

I like this
although I do recall hearing a similar story somewhere before, from one of my ex-b/f's mates I think.
(ChestyLaRue, Fri 22 May 2009, 13:00, closed)

Brilliant...!

Reminds me of my first PC which was lovingly dubbed 'Trigger's Broom'...

due to my insistance that it was the same PC despite having replaced every single part on it at least twice.

have mucho clickage
(Mr Twisty Cheeky The worst kept secret in B3ta..., Fri 22 May 2009, 13:03, closed)

ha
Spinal Tap/Stonehenge moment, there....
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Fri 22 May 2009, 13:08, closed)

This FTW!
Hilarious and so beautifully told. I click thee, sir. I click thee.
(LongJohnBaldry, Fri 22 May 2009, 13:14, closed)

Did he ever work
on the NASA Mars mission, by any chance?
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Fri 22 May 2009, 13:25, closed)

Fucking great post
mate - fucking great!
( SpankyHanky, Fri 22 May 2009, 14:07, closed)