My dad and his mates, back in their hazy college days
were walking along a country trail back to their geology field-trip HQ, after a lengthy session of 'refreshments' at a picturesque local pub. Halfway back, they saw a hiker in a nearby field, gripping onto a tall metal structure and shaking like a shitting dog. After a moment's confusion, the utter horror slowly dawned on them - the unlucky bloke had got too close to a pylon, and was currently in the extremely painful process of being flash-fried from the inside out.

Quick as pissed lightening, my dad's mate Steve yelled 'SHIT! I know what to do here - you lot stay back!', wrenched a big fuck-off plank from a nearby fence, and, brandishing it over his head, charged like greased buggery into the field. When he got near the hiker, he brought it down as hard as he could with a massive fucking CRACK! on the guy's outstretched, pylon-clutching arm.

The net result was a blood-curdling scream, a shattered humerous, and Steve having to explain to the local constabulary why he'd smashed up the arm of a man who was already having a bad enough day as it was - he was a radio mast maintenance worker who'd stepped in a massive cow pat whilst crossing the field, and had, when he was brutally and needlessly attacked, been innocently leaning on the tethering cable of the mast he'd been sent to fix, trying vigorously to shake and scrape the worst of it off his welly.

In the end, poor boozy Steve managed to make the smirking copper believe his idiotic story, but was, hilariously, slapped with a hefty fine for drunkenly vandalising a fence.
( grey kid is breakdancing to save a community centre, Thu 16 Jun 2005, 11:23, Reply)