Kids share a common predatory theme......
....they all kick Mr Wimpy in the shin.

When I was a kid, we had a plethora of parents who decided to use a fast food rester aunt instead of their own home for hosting a party for the masses. Some parents didn't have the room; others most probs couldn't be fucked with it all (I know which category I'd fall into right now :p) but whatever the reason us kids all rejoiced at the news that we were going to visit "Mr Wimpy's House".

The weekend arrives (as it is not a school day), and us young-uns start polishing our shoes, much to the amusement of our parents who are a bit bewildered by this action. "Must be excited about the party" says mum, but what the fuck does she know?

We get into the car and venture off into the unknown, glaring out of the window knowing that the prey is almost within reach.....

We get dropped off in the city centre and start our hike to Wimpy. My mum is stopping me rushing, thinking "Aw, he's awfully excited about the party". Fuck the party, what does she know. I can smell the teenage scent of the costume wearing part-timer as it quakes from his anus. The prey is close.

We arrive at the double doors to Wimpy. I kick them open with one foot, as if Dirty Harry was running through my blood, veins popping from my then miniature skull. I spy and recognize other predators within the establishment; other kids from the class in school all with the same pre-occupied look in their eyes. Something is nagging at us. Something is calling us.

We go to the counter and a "salesman" points us in the direction of some stairs, leading downwards into a large Wimpy Party Room, but to us kids it was like the cellar in Fight Club. We were pumped. We were ready.

We walk in, eyes darting from sides to sides active in the hunt. More parents and kids come downstairs, the parents oblivious to the taste in their siblings mouthes. He is here, we are ready.

After a few minutes and the birthday kid's parents interlude the sacrifice arrived. "Look who'se coming kids?". Red. All I can see is red. And the bastard's fucking ankles.

The part-timer didn't have a chance. He (or she) managed to get one wave to the pack before 20+ seven year olds all run in and kick the holy fuck out of Mr Wimpy's ankles. A few of the wiser kids swarm around the back of the poor bastard to cut off the escape route while the others kick it like Beckham, and parents reluctanly slowly get up from their burgers to pull the kids slowly away from them (while trying not to laugh).

This is the singlemost reason why I would never work in a fast food building. If I did I'd be the cunt in the suit, and me legs couldn't take this punishment.

The sad thing is as a kid you could get away with this, but as an adult the manager calls the police, it's just not fair....
( Jeccius Steam Borderlands 2 junkie, Thu 17 Apr 2008, 19:55, 2 replies)

I was always petrified
as a kid i was soo scared of Ronald mcdonald or mr wimpy. I got a free ice cream once when i ran away up the stairs. hehe a big one too
(The Ear-Trumpet Addicting is NOT a word., Thu 17 Apr 2008, 22:34, closed)

I did
the exact same thing to the poor bastard, all the children decended into a pack instinct and kicked the living crap out of mr wimpy, i remeber him locking himself in the toilet crying.
( Trollman, Fri 18 Apr 2008, 10:32, closed)