The Mrs and I went off to Prague...
A couple of years ago, by way of a wee jolly. After a couple of days wandering about looking at things, eating smoked pork and drinking heroic quantities of top notch lager (I don't normally touch the stuff, Carling can literally gum my glans) thoughts turned to entertainment, and noisy entertainment at that. We'd seen several of the prevalent dixieland-esque jazz quartets knocking about, all pick-banjos and clarinets with wild sideburns, and by now we needed something harder. In short, we needed ROCK.

Having consulted the handy guidebook, we happened across the Lucerna complex, and its in-house music bar. Our proferred korunas at the entrance met by a terse 'is free', and the bar was as usual dirt cheap (and you could smoke in there. WOO)- the place was half empty, and a motley bunch of older gents were tuning up on stage. We took our seats on the balcony, and sat back to enjoy what would doubtless be a musical extravanganza. The band of the night was to be Brutus, and we were told that they were Czech rock legends, this was their 25th birthday gig, hence free admission.

Well fuck me, they were SHOCKING. Seriously, this was worse than the ropiest pub-covers band you've ever seen (although the approximations of English used during such standards as 'Cocaine', 'I Shot The Sheriff' and a wonderfully skewed 'No Woman No Cry' were in some way entertaining) after about an hour of stop-starts, bum notes and hilariously out-of-tune backing vocals, we were about ready to fuck it all off and head back to the hotel for some more beer, and depraved rumpy.

'One for the road' we decided and got chatting to a local who could chat away in passable anglais, who informed us that the previous band were made up of various ex-members of the bands history, most of whom hadn't played in years (rather obviously looking back) and a couple of whom who had suffered career ending injuries- in particular, a short, lithe little fella whose pronounced limp was due to his having one false leg. They had just got together to celebrate, and the night proper was just beginning...

At this point we noticed that the place was fucking heaving, with boys and girls of all ages sizes and persuasions. One man however, stood oot from the masses- about 6' 8" of hairy, Viking-esque drunken fury, this enormo-man was moshing on his own and there wasn't even a band on, scattering people right and left. Bizaarely at this point, TV Smith (of The Adverts fame) turned up and did an acoustic set much to my delight. The fleshmountain bounced merrily throughout, much to everyone around him's increased chagrin.

Brutus then kicked into life, and it was a a blen of old-school rock'n'roll with some folkier elements, a bit of ska, and lots of men singing 'OOOOOHHHHHHHH YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!' (I believe these were the only lyrics) and ol' Buster Bigjob is going sick, do you know what I am saying? He is out of control and frankly ruining a lot people fun, he needs to go. Security grabs a hold of him, and he shrugs them off- one particularly big, nasty looking fella swings a beauty of a left hook that would have knocked a hole in an oak tree, this bloke doesn't even notice. Security eventually give up, and it isn't long before the gigantic twat has invaded the stage.

He is clearly a fan, and the band alternate between sharing vocal duties with him and trying to very pleasantly tell him to FUCK OFF OUT OF IT NOW YOU CUNT. He heads for the short guy with the false leg, intending to pick him up by the looks of it. The little guy is having none of it, and deftly side steps him whilst at the same time leaving the leg at an unnatural 90 degree angle to his body. The big fella lurches past, trips over the leg, and falls through the back curtain. Did I mention the stage was layered up about 20' from the ground level? The little chap looked over the precipice, and the single motion from 'nonchalant shrug' to 'one legged full-on rock-flute solo' will stay with me to the end of my days. Along with the Mrs breaking into the public transport system later on using her BRUTE STRENGTH (5' 3", weak).

Sorry about that, its a little longer than I remember. Still, ever since I put on all this weight I rarely get a chance to see it...
(Gertcha_cowson NAH MATE, Tue 22 Dec 2009, 14:41, 3 replies)

I enjoyed reading it but...
where's the schadenfreude?
(ElectricSexPants would like to be the Sultan of something, Tue 22 Dec 2009, 14:56, closed)

the
man fell over, and everyone rejoiced. I think? =)
(Monkeystrumpet monkey. Monkey, MONKEY!!!, Tue 22 Dec 2009, 15:52, closed)

Ah,
But there's no shame in that! Schadenfreude (Shameful Joy in German) is when you find joy but really shouldn't. Laughing at someone who just got bitchslapped by karma really isn't shameful, it's justified. It would be shameful if the OP had laughed at the Viking knocking out an old lady mid rave...
(ElectricSexPants would like to be the Sultan of something, Tue 22 Dec 2009, 16:01, closed)