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This is a question When were you last really scared?

We'd been watching the Shining. We were staying in an old church building. In hindsight, taking the shortcut home after midnight, in the mist, through the old graveyard was a bad idea.

I'm not sure what started it, but suddenly all the hairs on my neck had gone up and I was crapping myself. It was almost as bad as when, after a few cups of coffee too many and buzzing on caffeine, I got freaked out by my own reflection in the toilets.

When were you last really scared?

(, Thu 22 Feb 2007, 15:43)
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This question is now closed.

It was a few years ago, when I was still all innocent and cute...me and my friend decided to have a super-spooky halloween, where we would stay over at her converted church house, and watch the Blair Witch Project...
To think of it now, it was terrible, but it was scary stuff for a sheltered 12 year old.
Anyway,her parental units were absent, and so after hyperventilating through the entire movie, huddled together under a big blanket, we went to bed.
After discovering that my bed was full of glass (at the time,i thought she was trying to kill me)
i managed to settle down into a doze, when all of a sudden, on my friend's locked bedroom door comes a *scratchscratchscratchscratch*
followed by a creaky *muuuuuuurrrrrr*
which sounded like old rusty pipes..
I instantly was bolt upright, pissing myself with fear.
The door creaked open...
It was my friend's absolute SHIT of a cat.

I have never forgiven it to this day.

i hate that cat.

*pop* :D
(, Wed 28 Feb 2007, 5:58, Reply)
she typed a message into her phone and showed me
it said "I'm two months late."
and then I clicked the back button,
only it was send instead.
It went to her father.
(, Wed 28 Feb 2007, 5:31, Reply)
Reading someone else's story about children falling down stairs
reminded me of the day after my wedding. Mrs. F's parents were visiting from Alaska, so we decided to take them to the Ponce Inlet lighthouse. When we got there, my boys (aged 3 and 5) and I were the only ones that wanted to go up. So we head up the 213 steps to the observation deck. The observation deck is a small room, just beneath the lens room, where you can walk outside and around the circumference of the lighthouse. It's another 10 steps up to the lens room, but there's a steel gate barring entry at the top of the stairs. As I had my camera with me, I decided to get a picture of the lens from down on the observation deck. So as I'm looking through the viewfinder, lining up a decent shot, I hear the sickening thud of flesh and bone hitting steel deck plate. I quickly look down to see my 3-year old on his head, on the deck, the rest of his body finally making contact with the steel. Apparently in the 3 seconds I wasn't paying attention, he'd climbed the 10 steps up to the lens room and fallen. However, it wasn't the fall that scared me. It was the aftermath. I dropped the camera and scooped up my little one. He was eerily silent, not crying, breathing short, shallow breaths, and not moving. I tried to stand him up and he collapsed like a limp noodle. "Oh *SHIT*" thinks I, he's paralyzed. So I scoop him up and grab his brother by the hand, and start SPRINTING down the 213 step spiral staircase, shoving people out of the way, eventually picked up big brother because his little legs couldn't go fast enough, and burst out into the parking lot carrying 80 lbs. worth of children. By the time we got to the car, the little one had fully recovered, no harm done whatsoever. Not even a bruise. It was definitely one scary moment I'll never, ever forget.
(, Wed 28 Feb 2007, 4:18, Reply)
Bored ghosts? Faulty pipes? The world may never know.
So as I lay in bed, I hear the resounding "SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH", what sounds like running water. At first I think it's my parents.

I then remember that they are both asleep.

I then assumed I was hearing things, and tried to ignore it.

It didn't stop.

I ran downstairs in the pitch black, turned all the taps off, and ran back to bed.

They turned on again.

I screamed and pulled the covers over my head. I can assume I eventually fell asleep. Either way, it was terrifying.
(, Wed 28 Feb 2007, 2:34, Reply)
Grandma's house
First of all - apologies for extreme lurkage.

Now, this was a few years back, not long after my Gran had passed away.

She had an oldish semi-detached house with much 1940's deco in it, dark wood furniture and all that, the bedrooms were quite creepy I remember.

I was dreaming, I was in her house just sitting in the living room with my parents.

I had ventured upstairs to use the bathroom.

After I'd finished I was just heading back downstairs but turned my head to see that my Gran's bedroom door was open.

I noticed through the slight crack in the door there was a small mound in the bed.

Walking slowly towards the bedroom it became more apparent that somebody was in the bed.

I walked in and turned to see my Grandma lying there, dead, with her mouth wide open and staring at me.

Think of what the dead people look like in The Ring and that was her face.

I woke up with the worst 'chills' running over my body for about half an hour. I still get those chills when I think about it now.
(, Wed 28 Feb 2007, 1:34, Reply)
We were forced to watch it in secondary school by our sadistic history teacher who knew the potential it had to damage young minds.

The mix of poor acting and Dr. Who like special effects made it seem all the more eerie. The deformed baby is something that will always stick in my mind.

Length? That's nuclear fallout for you.
(, Tue 27 Feb 2007, 23:32, Reply)
Not a funny one
Last time I was genuinely scared...
Walking through the Meadows estate in Notts with some mates and getting jumped by 2 lads with knives, one held to my throat the other to my mates'.
They got away with a quid and 2 fags, then we saw them getting arrested half an hour latr and put in the back of a squad car for what will no doubt have been a considerable residence at Dame Helen, I mean Liz Regina's pleasure :) happy days
(, Tue 27 Feb 2007, 23:18, Reply)
The Gnomes
Slept in the back of a cave on my own at the north end of the island of Jura a few years back.

Nestled right at the back of the cave in the dark, as far as you could go before getting your head stuck, gave myself the heebee jeebees in the early hours of the morning utterly convinced I could hear engine noises and industrial clankings from deep down in the bowels of the earth, the gnome machines.

There were also the shadowy shapes, wraith-like silhouettes of people moving in and out of the cave, busying around certain parts of it like some kind of smoky time lapse movie. They had me switching the head torch on and off a bit.

But it was the gnome engines in the depths of the earth, way beyond the crack at the back of the cave that really gave me the fear.
(, Tue 27 Feb 2007, 22:35, Reply)
wheel of certain death
One beautiful day, me I am off to get some ciggies, walking along the pavement, road on the right, open grass park on the other, I hear a clang behind me followed by a scrapping noise of metal against 'tarmac', I turn around a few seconds later and there is a fairly dodgy looking ford going along the road fairly fast but slowing quickly, sparks flying from its back axel without a back lefthand wheel, racing towards me and overtaking the car was the wheel, I did not have time to react, it literally sailed past me with a foot clearance and raced off across the grass about 100meters till it met with a hedge.

I just carried on walking in shock.
(, Tue 27 Feb 2007, 21:56, Reply)
Anyone ever...
...see superman where the woman comes out of the lava alive cos shes like made out metal?

yeah i still cry about that (and other alloy-related nightmarish things).
(, Tue 27 Feb 2007, 20:54, Reply)
I remember seeing Ghostbusters years ago and being freaked out and having nightmares for weeks after about the arms coming out of the chair and the thing in the fridge. I was 23.
(, Tue 27 Feb 2007, 20:40, Reply)
Terror at 39000ft
Probably on a flight to London (from Aberdeen) last November when the cabin pressure failed at 39000 ft.
Nothing dramatic like at the end of Goldfinger, just a click as the masks dropped down. Bloody horrifying it was nonetheless - the crew were all sitting down so no-one knew what was going on - and all you could see were passengers swivel-eyed with fear behind their masks as a distinct burning smell filled the cabin. A woman on my aisle hopped into the empty seat next to me and held my hand while the looped tannoy announcment didn't reassure: 'Place mask over mouth and nose. The smell of burning is normal'.

When we landed the stewardess came out with the standard announcement 'Welcome to London Heathrow. We hope you enjoyed your flight'.
(, Tue 27 Feb 2007, 20:40, Reply)
Either way...
There's only one thing I can think of that ever happened to me that has no logical explanation that isn't as scary as a supernatural one.

It was when I was about 13 or 14 and my brother and I would get in from school about half an hour before our dad would get in from work. At the time mum and dad had only given us back door keys , so we'd let ourselves in that way and sit watching TV till the folks got in.

One day we were doing just this when we heard the back door, which my brother had obviously not locked behind him, open and then shut. You had to slam it to get it shut back then (before we got it replaced) so it was pretty loud. We assumed dad had arrived and gone round the back to take the bin round or something, but when no-one was forthcoming we went to check.

No-one. Not a soul. I think in this case, some weirdo going round to our back door (which would involve reaching over to unlock the gate or jumping over a very high wall) and looking into the kitchen is every bit as scary as a supernatural explanation...
(, Tue 27 Feb 2007, 20:17, Reply)
Really scared
This was about 4 years ago in our old house. This house is 140 years old and there have been alot of people living in it over the years. It was always a bit weird - the large mirror (2ft x 3ft) came of the wall three times, including just jumping six inches off the wall and not breaking when it landed on the solid slate floor and also seeing a person standing in my bedroom doorway with my then 2 year old daughter (she was there, the person wasn't). That last sight was quite peaceful - just got the feeling that they were watching over her, not harmful at all.

Anyway, it was a Sunday night and Mr Scaredy-cat was out at a quiz with his gormless chums and I was expecting him back about 11 pm. Now the layout of the house meant that if the back door was open and the front door was opened (only by key) all the doors in the house would slam shut. It was a summer night and so the back door was still providing a welcome draught. 11 pm comes, the front door opens, all the doors in the house slam too, footsteps up the stairs (quick bathroom visit needed?) and then ... nothing, no Mr Scaredy-cat .

Left it 15 minutes to allow for bathroom privacy, went upstairs to check that Mr Scaredy-cat hadn't drowned in the toilet and Mr S-C wasn't home. He didn't come home for another 30 minutes by which time I was having kittens over the strange noises heard earlier.

Luckily it never happened again and the house we are in now (a 'new' house of only 100 years old) has been very peaceful.
(, Tue 27 Feb 2007, 19:37, Reply)
Took a while to get over this one!
As a general rule I try not to get scared and I'm pretty good at it. Nervous about stuff occasionally sure but not really scared.

Last time I was truly piss-myself-stupid scared was when I was 17, just before my Dad's funeral about 11 years ago. I went to see his body in the chapel before he was cremated. I walked into the room, not really sure what to expect. It was as pleasant as could be under the circumstances; long thin room, tastefully decorated, bible on a table that kind of thing. I walked up the room to my Dad's coffin and started to say my farewells. Leaning over to kiss him on the forehead before I left, my foot caught the leg of the stand that was holding his coffin (it was like an X-shaped keyboard stand and none too steady).

His head duly rocked from side to side and a moaning gasping noise came from his mouth. I have NEVER in my life shat my pants so much. I shot out the room into the arms of the priest who had heard my scream from outside the chapel, shaking like a leaf and crying my eyes out. Verdict of priest and (nurse) mother that gases had escaped from him when I kicked the coffin stand.

I don't give a shit what it was I will never forget that one in my life.

Old sod ALWAYS had to have the last laugh.
(, Tue 27 Feb 2007, 17:34, Reply)
Like a boat out of Hull...
A whole bunch of years ago having recently split up with a girlfriend and really welcoming the distraction, my old friend Johnny (web site for his new boat can be found here: www.enigmasailing.co.uk/) talked me into coming along as crew for a summer of sailing the balmy...uh...thats is to say brown river Humber. Things were going pretty good on the whole, but I was a complete novice at this game. We set out on a big trip down to Grimsby for a couple of days. As we sailed down the river, just a couple of miles east of Paull, Johnny had gone below (fnar) to write up the log, and I was left helming when one of the big ol' cargo ferries came barrelling up river, trying to get in before she lost the tide. She was certainly going faster than anything I'd seen on the river before or since. As she got closer to us, I couldn't help noticing this WALL of brown streaming out behind her.

"Johnny. Wake line approaching. Its a big one" I shouted below

"It'll be ok" came the reply. "Just point her nose into it like you've done before"

"Mmmm. Ok. It is a bit bigger than any one I've seen before"

"I'll be up in a minute"

So I steared on. The rags lovely and full making 7 or 8 knots straight at this wall of Humber.

"Its a big wake, amigo" I called

"In a mo."

The noise of the ferry blasting past us at about 25 knots got Johnny out the cabin quicker than you could blink, and he grabbed the tiller for grim death all the while shouting "shhhhiiiiiiiittttttt!"

The wall of river bore down on us, and we held on best we could. The boat started to raise over the huge wave, at one point the WHOLE of her 23ft length suspended on this wave, before she slammed down into the trough behind, and then she started to raise again, only less so, this time, and again, until finally the river settled down and we continued on our way.

As I popped down below to change my strides, Johnny, salty old sea dog that he is, commented "That was a big wave, wasn't it?"
(, Tue 27 Feb 2007, 17:33, Reply)
back door bangers
at the tender age of 14 myself and some friends were on a Friday night 'banger-a-thon' ie throwing bangers at everyone and everything. (yes I know it's dangerous but we were young/thick).

We were all on push bikes and had made our way to a secluded lane for some 'bangers in milk bottles' kinda fun.

It was going great until someone shouted that a 4x4 pick-up was on it's way towards us down a farm track. We peddled off in the opposite direction but soon the pick-up was starting to catch up... we hastily decided to throw the bikes over a gate into a field and hid army style in the ditch behind a hedge. As the pickup drew closer it slowed down and pulled up right next to the hedge about 3ft away from my face.

It was then we started to absolutely cack our pants as 4 burley farmer types jumped off the truck stating 'they was gunna fuck some arses'.
We all hid as low as possible as I was sure they could here our muffled whimpers, my heart beating so fast it actually hurt.

Luckily they decide to drive on and look else-where, panic averted only to find I'd put my hand in a dogs' chod!

(, Tue 27 Feb 2007, 17:06, Reply)
Be prepared...
Once on a scout sleepover in the local hall (five minutes down the hill from my house), we had completed the required levels of violence and mayhem and decided to settle down for the night. After a few moments we heard some drunken thugs outside, and, being young and tough, we started yelling rude things out the windows. Which really got them wound up. So they started throwing rocks and breaking the windows (thankfully the windows were about 20 ft off the ground, so were not an entry point).

Cue us all panicking that they would get in. So in true scout style, we booby-trapped the entrances to the hall. The main one being the most obvious, we rigged it with two battering rams (fashioned from huge logs that we had around for building scoutly things), one from the side, and one from the front, with a rather impressive knife attached to it.

So, our constructions completed, we sat back and waited for the hoons to try something. Then we heard footsteps around the front entrance. We all grabbed what weapons we could, ranging from chunks of wood to knives and such.

The footsteps stopped outside the door and we heard a fumbling with the locks. We thought we were safe as we had rigged the battering rams to trigger as the door opened.

So slowly the lock unlocks and the door opens, setting the two lethal battering rams on their merry ways.

We sat, with a mixture of fear and excitement as the huge chunks of wood with knives attached made their way towards our intruder. As the door opened further, we saw the face of our scout leader come to check on us.

Great! we thought, its not thugs here to kill us after all.

Followed by even greater fear, upon realising that we were about to kill our friends dad.

So the ram from the front with the big fuck off knife attached to it is hurtling towards Lawrie. We're all transfixed, not wanting to see what comes next. As the ram closed in and death briskly approached Greg's dad, the ram from the side swung in, just in time for the front ram to embed the knife a good four inches deep.

Cue much relief, but a rather intense bollocking from Lawrie.

He was well impressed with our engineering, so close to being lethal, but just incompetent enough to be rendered, thankfully, completely impotent and useless.

Length? about 8ft, girth to kill for and a bloody great knife lashed to the end of it.
(, Tue 27 Feb 2007, 16:53, Reply)
"But I'm not sure how accurate that was. Sometimes you just look one way, they could've done that."

With overtaking, idiot drivers, and taxis, only an idiot would assume that a vehicle couldn't possibly come from the wrong direction. Look both ways. Always. Seriously.

A story:

I was last really, really scared just after a holiday. My glasses had broken whilst away, so on returning I visited Boots to get my free eye test and get some replacements. The optician checked my eyes with the bright light and the scope thing, as they do. He lingered a long time on my right eye, told me he'd be a moment, then left the room. Okay...a little nervous.

He returned and looked in the eye again with another device. When I asked him if anything is wrong, he said:

"I probably shouldn't tell you just yet. You need to stay calm and keep your blood pressure down."

Cue, of course, the highest blood pressure I'd probably ever had. Cold sweat, shaking hands, that kind of thing. Something is wrong with my eye, I thought. Oh god.

He explained. I had a clot blocking a blood vessel in my retina. If it burst, it might cause damage and possible partial blindness. I was being booked into the hospital the following day.

I went to the hospital, scared out of my wits, but trying to keep calm; fear = high blood pressure = burst blood vessel. I was, of course, failing. They put drops in, had a good look, and then...

"It's burst."

I nearly fainted.

"But it's not caused any damage. We'll take a blood sample and get it checked. You should be okay."

This was a few years ago. After reading about the deep-vein thrombosis thing, and thinking on the occurance of a blood clot so soon after a 13 hour flight in economy, I decided that from then on some precautionary asprin (to thin the blood) might be a worthwhile addition to my carry-on baggage next time I fly.

My new glasses were lovely, by the way.
(, Tue 27 Feb 2007, 16:49, Reply)
I honestly shit myself...

heh, well one time on the way back from the Trafford Centre (Manc', waheey!), me and my mates were walking the long 3 mile trek home.
We come up to a circle and are suddenly chased by 7 gorilla sized chavs, so being the smart blokes we are we run in different directions.
Cunningly i head down the nearest alleyway.

fucking dead end!!

Cue me, casually strolling out of the alleyway trying not to look like a bloody metal 'ead, shitting it and thinking of my poor, poor face.
I only took a minor beating in the end off 5 or six mid-to-massive sized chavs, and escaped with only a bent nose!

Oh, and back in secondary school some beefy 30-odd year old guy tried strangling me...

First post!!!
(, Tue 27 Feb 2007, 16:38, Reply)
I do you special price!
I visited a friend in Cairo last summer. My life flashed before my eyes on several occasions in Cairo taxis, but the journey from the airport to my friend's apartment really took the biscuit.

His name was Mahmoud and he said he would do me "special price". He asked if the person I was staying with was male or female. "Ah so you are girls on your own..." I told him I had a boyfriend back home.

Mahmoud drove like a maniac. After a couple of minutes it became clear that driving like a maniac was de rigeur in Cairo. I'm amazed we didn't see any fatalities during the fifteen-minute journey and I for one regard having retained control of my bowels a considerable achievement. At one point, Mahmoud turned round to me (physically turned round!) and said, "You and your friend want to see pyramids? Go to Giza? I do you special price!" I nodded and smiled - anything to get his eyes back on the road. "I give you my number. You have pen?" I told him I didn't have one. I really didn't want him driving me to Giza - Nasr City was quite far enough with him behind the wheel. Not to be deterred, Mahmoud leaned over and fumbled around in his glove compartment, eventually finding a pen and paper. He then proceeded to take his hands off the steering wheel entirely (still doing about 80mph) whilst he wrote down his number for me.

I have no idea why I'm still alive.
(, Tue 27 Feb 2007, 16:16, Reply)
One time, at band camp....
I was so scared I literally shat myself.

I say scared, I meant drunk.
(, Tue 27 Feb 2007, 16:13, Reply)
One frightful night of chill and bluster...
When me and some chums were 16 we packed out rucksacks and ventured off to the peak district to do our Chief Scout Challenge. It involved walking a helluva long way with everything we needed for three days on our backs and laughing at funny looking D of E kids who didn’t know how to hold a map or take a slash in the woods.

On the second night we were a bit behind schedule so found a farm house and asked the farmer’s wife if we could camp in their field for the princely sum of a crisp tenner. Transaction agreed we erected (heh heh) our tents, cooked dinner and looked at some porn purchased from a garage that we’d passed en route.

Night came and we settled down in our tents freezing our nipples off and looking forward to waking up to find the previous day’s sweat frozen in our walking boots. But then we started hearing rustling from outside... footsteps thinks we. And we can feel something tugging on our tent strings (guys for those in the know). Our 16 year old Daily Mail warped minds fear the worst. We expect a buggering at best and get really shitted up. So my two far more intrepid comrades decide to run to the farmhouse to get help because someone’s snooping around their field scaring boys in tents leaving me to fear the worst and be genuinely close to filling my sleeping bag with fear-wee.

So my good buddies present themselves dressed only in walking boots and their tighty whitys to the farmer’s wife shaking like shitting dogs. In a gale. At 2am. Farmer wakes up and brings shotgun, looks around field and tells us it’s the wind and to go back to bed.

Didn’t sleep a wink that night... but in hindsight we’re pretty sure it was just the wind.

Length? It was freezing I tell you.
(, Tue 27 Feb 2007, 16:12, Reply)
crow terror
last year at uni i was up for 44 hours straight out of my mind on the left over speed trying to finish an essay.
at dawn on the last day i was sitting at my desk which looked out of the window onto a courtyard filled with birds.
something spooked them and one flew directly into my window, its face smashed into the glass and awful scream from the depths of my soul filled the building.
in my spaced state i fell backwards of my chair and had to lie in a quivering ball for a few hours to recover
i pooed a little
(, Tue 27 Feb 2007, 16:08, Reply)
American exchange students
My friend at the time said that they looked left then right then left, when they should've looked right then left then right.

But I'm not sure how accurate that was. Sometimes you just look one way, they could've done that.
(, Tue 27 Feb 2007, 15:45, Reply)
motorbike + diesel spill = flat person
Driving my bike back to Northampton from Swindon and got to the Cherwell services roundabout where there are 2 lanes to go straight over the roundabout towards Northampton.

My boyfriend was in the other lane to go straight across and me being the idiot I am, looked across and thought it would be amusing to beat him across the roundabout (simple things etc etc). Boyfriend obviously had a similar idea so when we got a space in the traffic both twisted the throttle hard and leaning over decided to race for the lane.

Not remembering the lorries fill up on diesel at the services there and tend to spill some on roundabout. Not remembering wet roads, diesel spills and motorbikes not particularly good combination unless tyremarks across head from cars behind a good look.

Back end of bike gives a kick and decides to act somewhere along lines of bucking bronco (well it felt like it at the time). The time did the whole slowing down thing and I’m heading for either the ditch or the tarmac (ditch would be favourite at this point due to car behind ready to flatten me and bike).

Managed to rescue due to luck rather than any kind of skill. Bit pathetic but definitely one of most scary moments for me. (Also Dad had spent last 2 years sorting out 400-4 so would definitely have been scared of the ass kicking that followed from screwing up all that work)
(, Tue 27 Feb 2007, 15:07, Reply)
sleep paralysis
I have had lots of terrifying experiences of sleep paralysis, I used to get them on a weekly basis, the most terrifying was one night when i was sleeping I "woke up" by being pulled out of bed by lots of invivible hands and dragged out of my room and throught the corridor in my flat, through the wall of the living romm where i saw my flatmate asleep on the couch, i then got pulled really fast beck to me bed. It was wierd because i diddnt feel like i was flying I felt like I was floating through treacle, i cuold also hear vioces but could not see where they were comming from, the wors part was the screaming noise i heard.

anyway i managed to wake up for real, had a fag and decided to watch some telly, and my faltmete was asleep in the living room exactly as i had seen him in my experience.

funnily enough i wasnt really scared just very confused and a bit shaken.

(, Tue 27 Feb 2007, 14:49, Reply)
"Apparently some American exchange students at my university were killed due to this fact ie they were crossing the road and looked the wrong way for cars."

How did they manage to reach university age without knowing to look both ways before stepping off the curb?
(, Tue 27 Feb 2007, 13:57, Reply)
Skunk Monkey
Whilst laying in bed i spied a spider monkey in my wardrobe. The little blighter just stared and followed my gaze round the room.

For nearly 4 hours.

When i awoke, i saw my favourite Fila t-shirt hanging out of the wardrobe.

Goddamn brain monkey.

Then theres the time i arrived home at 3am shit scared and soaked. Whilst walking back through Norwich i thought the black beamer that turned onto my road was following me, with intent to drive by gun me down (In Norwich?). As it got closer behind me, the noise of the filthy big exhaust got louder and louder and just at the point where i thought death was coming - they wound down the windows.

I had a near instant choice to make, die here and now. Or hit the deck like a trained soldier and find some cover. I decided to flatten myself to the floor behind a car - in the midst of a puddle Dr Gloucester would be proude of. And waited for the bullets to fly.

After a minute, i realised that they had not shot anything. and the Beamer was probably just an old shite one not a Mafia/Yardy owned one. And that i could get up now.

I near ran the last mile home (well - ran, after 1/16 hash in 6 cakes i sort of made it home).

I still say lucky to be alive.
(, Tue 27 Feb 2007, 13:55, Reply)

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