Well, this has struck a rich seam
of twisted serial killer potential hasn't it?

Come on lurkers, tell us how many dismembered prozzies you've rolled in an old rug and left by the pissers on the A34.

You can trust us here; and if your victim(s) were some kind of undesirable type, the cops wont be interested either.
( Infidel , shit and wrong, Fri 23 Dec 2011, 23:51, 7 replies)

Back when I used to be able to have cool ring tones on my phone.
*waves lines*....
It was one of those hot summers day, and I was relaxing with a pleasant game of Final Fantasy X. Sipping on Cola. When suddenly there was a buzzing noise near my ear. I struck out at it, thinking it was a fly. I hit it towards the window, only then did I looked to see a giant wasp, sitting dazed on the windowsill. (Me striking it, caused it to fly hard into the window, and stun the beast) I grabbed a book, and quickly squashed it flat. As I lifted the book away, I received a text. My text tone... was the Victory Fanfare from winning fights from said Final Fantasy game.....I felt awesome. I dunno how much experience and gold I got from it. :(
(Dante licked your nipple on, Fri 23 Dec 2011, 23:47, 2 replies)

ewoks
On the long and tortuous journey to Suffolk from Nottingham nothing ever happened other than getting stuck behind endless tractors and caravans...

...apart from just the one time...

I swerved to avoid hitting a bird that ran out in front of the car (why do they run? why not fly?) and managed to miss it, but hit its friend. I took the head clean off, it made me very sad but the most heartbreaking thing was what I saw in my mirror: you know the bit where an ewok gets killed and his mate tries to rouse him? That scene played out in my rear-view mirror - the surviving bird ran back to his decapitated friend and nudged it... then looked at me... then back at the dead bird, and then at the ground whilst walking slowly to the other side of the road.

I had to pull over and have a bit of a weep.
(Ross McBingobangobongo bingobangobongo, Fri 23 Dec 2011, 22:15, 2 replies)

Mama...
I just killed a man,
Put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger
now he's dead
Mama... life had just begun,
But now I've gone and thrown it all away
Mamaaaaa oooh,
Didn't mean to make you cry,
If I'm not back again this time tomorrow,
Carry on, carry on as if nothing really matters



Galileo, Galileo etc, etc.
(Woodlouse say it with flowers. Send her a Triffid, Fri 23 Dec 2011, 22:08, 2 replies)

Many moons ago...
I was driving across the Nevada desert with my sister returning from our grandma's funeral (no, it wasn't granny that I killed--read on.) As one might expect, the mood was a bit somber, with occasional sniffles coming from the passenger side of the car and "there, there" from my side.

Sis had just started another bit of waterworks when WHAP! a large brown bird flew into the windscreen directly in front of her. At 70+ mph it was instantly lights out for Mr. Feathers. Sis, being already a bit emotionally ragged, was now sobbing over the death of this innocent creature.

Having run out of "there, theres" about 150 miles prior I decided to take a different tack in soothing her. I asked, "Do you have any idea of the last thing that went through that bird's mind?"

"No," she replied.

"Well, at that speed, I think it was probably his butt."

For the rest of the trip any impending tears were soon followed by giggles and a muttered "His butt!"

Result!
(grundig Down goes Frazier! Down goes Frazier!, Fri 23 Dec 2011, 21:25, Reply)

Froggy.
One day when I was about ten I found a frog. I called him Froggy and he was my friend. I played with him for ages then he...
Went all quiet
And still
And stuff started leaking out of him.
Maybe that last game of "Let's see how far I can throw Froggy" wasn't such a good idea.
(Big D, Fri 23 Dec 2011, 19:40, Reply)

Don't let the gerbils out...
My 4yo son and his friend were at the friends house, and decided it would be a good idea to shut the bedroom door and let the gerbils out to play.

Cue two excited children squealing as the gerbils ran around.. until my son, wearing shorts, knelt on one. Splidge.

Ever had to wipe gerbil brains off a kids knee?
(Smegma, Fri 23 Dec 2011, 19:38, Reply)

Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit
Bit OT, but WTH....

When I was a wee nipper my dad used to breed rabbits, I'm talking hundreds at a time....

I always used to think they were for pet shops, so I was a little shocked when he told me when I was 35 that they were actually bred for meat.
( repooc, Fri 23 Dec 2011, 18:39, 6 replies)

I think something died up my bum because I stink fiercely today.
( enoughblueskyforsailorstrousers, Fri 23 Dec 2011, 18:29, Reply)

I killed SexF*ce's chances at a modelling career.

( BraynDedd Natasha Kaplinsky's labia majora, Fri 23 Dec 2011, 18:29, 7 replies)

Burning like fire
Took my mother to see Art Garfunkel a few years back. Amongst the songs he sang was Bright Eyes, bringing back memories of Watership Down.

The teary eyed reminiscence of playful bunnies was ended quite abruptly with the cutest rabbit you've ever seen going under my car on the drive home.
(Peacocke, Fri 23 Dec 2011, 18:27, 1 reply)

It appears that my username is kinda fitting
Anyway, I did done that "kill it, cook it, eat it", just to be a real man.

Went to the rocks on the North Coast of Scotland, fishing gear in tow. After a whole afternoon of fruitless hoping, on the LAST CAST of the day, somehow against all the odds I caught two mackerel.

I was initially using kind of rubber fake fish with smelly oily stuff as bait, but this proved feckless. Having caught a small sandeel previously, I went at the poor wee critter with a rusty pocket knife. Killing is strange.

The mackerel were dashed headfirst against the nearest rock. Little did I anticipate "sprayback' from the ordeal.

Fried up the fillets with a nice bit of butter, salt and pepper. Truly fresh and delicious.

Incidentally I'm now vegetarian (unrelated)
( whenanimalsattackhumans clad in global hypercolour, Fri 23 Dec 2011, 18:27, Reply)

A Classic
b3ta.com/questions/offtopic/post907591
( Amorous Badger NAKED BEA ARTHUR PHOTOS 4U, Fri 23 Dec 2011, 18:26, 8 replies)

Role reversal
I once nearly got killed by a spider.

My sister-in-law is terrified of the furry legged little gits, and I thought it would be quite amusing to throw her a box of matches containing one of said beasties, when she asked for a light for her fag.

Cue look of utter fear and dread, and mighty shriek, upon opening the box, followed swiftly by hate filled eyes and death threats for yours truly, being chased from the room.

Not gonna do that again in a rush, lemme tell ya.
(morebasheder is still awake, damn it!, Fri 23 Dec 2011, 18:22, 1 reply)

Not me
But every fucking radio station in the world every damn Christmas

'Fairytale of New York'.
(TheManWithThePlan cussed your mum on, Fri 23 Dec 2011, 18:21, 4 replies)

I passed my driving test and didn't drive for a year...
After moving in with my girlfriend's family, her parents let me drive their car. I was driving to my brother's BBQ for his birthday, and I saw a magpie in the middle of the road. I swerved to avoid it, and ended up flattening it. Apparently I went very pale...

Plus a suicidal squirrel that jumped in front of my car years later
(AMTF uses MS Paint to make B3ta competition pictures, Fri 23 Dec 2011, 17:55, Reply)

Mr. and Mrs. Squirrel
I was once driving to work through the lovely (err...no) place that is Erdington, down a road with lots of trees, when a pair of squirrels shot across the road in front of me, then there was a bump, and one squirrel carrying on to the other side.

I was nearly sick, and all I could think about was poor Mr. or Mrs. Squirrel explaining to baby squirrel where Mom or Dad was.

*sob*
(morebasheder is still awake, damn it!, Fri 23 Dec 2011, 17:31, 3 replies)

high temperature pea
relevant enough for a repost imo

Some friends and I were taking about motor bikes, silly driving and that nutter that zooms round sweden, weaving in and out of traffic while doing over a ton (ghost rider?).

Although the topic was fairly serious we were discussing it in a humerous way.

After a few minutes this guy, Martin, pipes up and says "a guy died in my arms"

Everybody stopped talking.

He took this as his cue to elaborate a bit.

He had been on his way to a rugby match when he and a few other guys saw a motorcycle rip past them dressed head to toe in denim. One of them remarks on the fact that the guy must be freezing when all of a sudden Mr blue jeans and his bike start to cartwheel up the motorway. They slam on the brakes and put the hazards on. Some of them pull the wreckage to the side of the road. In the mean time Martin goes to check on the amazing human cannon ball. He finds him lying face up and convulsing in the middle of the lane just up from their car. His helmet is cracked and there is grey matter on display. The dude is checking out. Martin then goes on to explain that he saw past all the gore and horror and knew he was witnessing the last moments of someone's life. He tells us that he couldn't let this guy die alone, so he held his hand and talked to him.

You could have heard a scale model of a pin drop onto a mattress.

The evening pretty much fizzled out. For some reason.
(OTT, Fri 23 Dec 2011, 17:03, 1 reply)

Insects, rubber and fire
when i lived in Holland i went through a bit of a blood thirsty stage. My dad is getting the blame of this one though. Given his influence i am pretty sure that if the insects had been people I would have walked free with the help of a good psychiatrist.

Anyhoo, I was about 10 years old and enjoying some balmy summers on the south dutch coast. Everything was rather idyllic and... well.... perfect.

Except for the flies!

They bugged the shit out of everyone, especially me. Upon spotting my feeble attempts at swatting them out of the air with my hand my dad had came to me with an idea. He had a bag full of the big huge thick rubber bands that are used to tie together large stacks of envelopes. he explained that, although flies were quicker than humans on their own, there were few flies that could out maneuver a human-rubber combo.

a bit of practice saw me take on any fly that came my way. I felt like a sniper. it got to the point that i could get them from the other side of the room. Tension. Release. DEATH!

Dad was proud.

That could have been it but things take a sinister turn here. Generally there was nothing left of the fly except a smear and some wreckage.

If the fly had been a person it would have been like an articulated lorry made of rubber ramming into them at 500 mph!

However, sometimes my aim was off or the fly moved. As a result my victim would be stunned instead of obliterated. I was under special instruction from the pater familius to report to him with any such "subjects".

These were promptly thrown in to the biggest spider web I have ever seen. It was about a square metre and home to the biggest 8 eyed 8 legged 2 fanged nightmare i have seen this side of my tv screen.

The poor fly had just dodged annihilation by a fraction of a gnats pubic hair and just as it starts counting its blessings it sees a vision of hairy legged darwinism, all teeth and eyes, rushing towards it.

Dad and i would whoop with excitement as the spider got all Egyptian on the fly ass, mummyfying it in silk.

TLDR? I killed insects.

Dad also let me help him kill off an ant nest with half a gallon of turpentine and a match. I was so impressed I set up a free of charge ant removal service for neighbours and friends parents. Never told them how i would do it until the flames were chest high. The towering flames, the plight of thousands near a horrific agonising death by burning, entire communities wiped out in an orgy of high temperature violence. I secretly pretended the bottle of spirit was the enola gay and i was the pilot.
(OTT, Fri 23 Dec 2011, 16:59, Reply)

I would like to point out the two QOTW since PCmechanic posted that picture of the homemade dagger
have involved 'weird rituals' and 'killing'.

Are we trying to get some kind of confession out of him? I predict next weeks QOTW to be titled 'Things you've done to avoid paying a prostitute'.
(FartThroughAWalkieTalkie wished you were dead in ditch on, Fri 23 Dec 2011, 15:47, 2 replies)

Not in a National Park
Living as a kid in Kenya some time ago;

Black Mamba decided it fancied our back garden - whacked over the head a few times with a polo stick. It _does_ taste a bit chickeny.

Going out in a jeep cross-country with rifles to kill some wild dogs on a friends ranch "cos you're better at staying upright over the bumps" from my dad.

The guinea-pig that accidentally fell off a concrete plinth onto a fencing stake (rapidly buried, hutch vandalised and 'rents told a hyena must have got it)

Innumerable termites in their nests dispatched with a gallon of petrol poured down the hole and a small molotov cocktail to set it all off,

Mind you, the wildlife did get its own back occasionally.

Peacock killed by a lion on the back lawn. 5m radius of feathers...

Burmese cats; male killed by something, female impregnated by a cerval.

Horse attacked by a leopard, had to be put down.

But we were definitely on the winning side once the food slaughter was taken into account.
(baldybeardy, Fri 23 Dec 2011, 15:43, Reply)

I killed a cat once...
Was driving home at night and, as I passed a row of cars I saw a flash of cat leg it out from underneath one. By the time I'd moved my foot to the brake it was already underneath the wheel (it basically ran into the side of the front wheel, neither of us stood a chance). I heard it go round the wheel arch a couple of times (whoomph, whoomph). Dead.

Felt genuinely terrible for at least a few weeks... I killed someone's pet. Even thinking about it now makes me sad.

Happy Christmas.
(Mr_Kipling_, Fri 23 Dec 2011, 15:38, 5 replies)

I killed my dad. And his boss.
STAR WARS.

etc.
(username failed moderation, Fri 23 Dec 2011, 15:35, 1 reply)

I dont do things by halves...
...So when i find slug crawling across the kitchen floor, i decide to get the salt out (I was a right 'orrible twat when i was a wee bit younger)

But before administering a small amount of salt to kill the poor thing, I did ponder....what would happen if i put the whole bag on him.

Turns out they dissapear completely..


Im new and it turns out i have twatfull anecdotes too...
(Dr_Wookie_Phd The world loves a bastard!, Fri 23 Dec 2011, 15:13, 6 replies)

A slug
stood on it wearing only socks, felt like a tube of warm toothpaste emptying itself underfoot =(
( Steerable_forehead Our Lady of Blessed Acceleration,don't fail me now, Fri 23 Dec 2011, 14:42, 3 replies)

My mother can be a bit on the mental side sometimes
At one time my parents had a problem with ants getting in to their flat. Often, when she saw one of the little critters come strolling across the floor, she would promptly give it a name. And chat with it a little bit (Hello, Tony! What a lovely weather we've got today. How's the missus?). And then proceed to stomp the snot out of the little bugger.

This happened with alarming regularity.
(Rebooted Frazer Smoothly scrolling since, Fri 23 Dec 2011, 14:38, 3 replies)

My friend once remarked that he found Christina Ricci attractive
because "she's got the body of a woman but the face of a child."

Many things died that day.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 23 Dec 2011, 13:50, 1 reply)

Many Rabbits & Grey squirrels
Humanely shot and put into many nice dishes - Yum :)

Pest control without wastage.
(funkenstein Be pure! Be vigilant! Behave!, Fri 23 Dec 2011, 13:38, Reply)

Kermit eyes the bullet
In me yoof I got hold of an old air rifle which had seen better days and didn't have enough puff to push a pellet down the barrel in a single shot. So being the industrious and curious type, I set about renewing its power with a new spring and a set of seals that I made to fit. The spring wasn't an airgun one but just something we had that roughly fitted. All this, to my surprise, actually worked and I borrowed an old scope and took the lot up to my bedroom to start sighting it in. Pellet in, barrel broken and reset, we are good to go.
Squinting through the grubby and just mounted scope I began to look around for a suitable target to roughly aim and was interested to spot a frog lurking in the flowerbed about 25 yards off. Not expecting to hit anything within feet of the innocent frog, I carefully pulled the trigger and that very first shot went straight through ol' froggy's eye like a scene from an improbable war movie.
Poor little bugger, minding his own business and taken out by a random sniper.
Yeah, it was only a frog but I felt fucking awful.

But what a shot.
( Infidel , shit and wrong, Fri 23 Dec 2011, 13:34, Reply)