Evil B*stards
My brother and i have always fought like cat and dog, but my father and uncle take the prize for true evil doing.

When they were 6 ish, my uncle Bill took my fathers cheap tin cap gun, and held it over the hob with a pair of tongs until it was practically white hot. He then called my dad in and handed it to him, causing the gun to practically weld to his hand.

My father, being the unimaginative chap that he is, waited until he was healed up, took a length of stovewood and hit my uncle Bill across the face with it with absolutely no warning one morning at breakfast. It hit him so hard, it levelled most of his top row of teeth off at the gum line.

So, in retaliation, my uncle shot him in the neck with an air rifle. So my father, (who despite being youger, was twice his size) wrestled the rifle off him and smashed the butt in to his face until he was sparko.

They still hate each other to this day and at family events i keep expecting a fight to the death.

Length, Girth, PAH! It is all about the flavour.
(Flinglish, Fri 19 Aug 2005, 11:02, Reply)