My mate Nicky is a walking accident
Not sure how he manages it, but he’s always getting into bother. One time he knocked himself out while having a job interview, just sort of slipped out his chair and head butted the wall. Out. Sparko. Another time Nicky went to Jamaica on holiday, he’d been saving up for ages. First day on the beach he’s wading round in the water – quite a formidable sight, my mate Nicky looks like a lobster pink version of Shrek – when he gets hit by a jet ski. Breaks both legs. Spends the next month in traction before he can come home.

I swear, you’ve gotta take out life insurance just to be in the same room as this guy.

But my own experience with this walking man-mountain of complete and utter fail was when we were riding the Northern Line from Waterloo up to my gaff in Tufnell Park. We’re sat there, chatting about the price of fish, when suddenly I notice Nicky’s attention is elsewhere. I follow his gaze.

Nicky’s staring at the bloke sat in the seat opposite. Absolutely transfixed.

Then Nicky speaks up in his Essex drawl: “Ain’t you small, mate?” he says. Christ! Yes, Nicky, that fella is small... That’s because he’s a fucking midget...

The midget fella goes from naught to sixty in the ‘being pissed off by great big lumbering giants who look like Shrek’ department. He starts screaming at Nicky to “Fuck off and stop being such a rude cunt!”

Nicky, not really understanding it could be considered rude in polite society to point out to a midget, to his face, that he’s a bit on the wee side, starts shouting back: “Fuck you! I was only sayin’, you fuckin’ muppet!”

I couldn’t believe it. I was witnessing a full on row between my mate Shrek and a fucking midget. This is the sort of shit that usually only happens on Twin Peaks.

We get to Warren Street. The little fella gets up, grabs his briefcase, and launches the corner of the damn thing into Nicky’s shins and legs it off the tube. Nicky, absolutely fucking incensed, gets up and goes to follow.

Then as Nicky’s approaching the open doors he trips over his own feet, all twenty-five stone of him sails through the air like a Russian ballerina on steroids, and he lands in a crumpled heap on the platform.

The doors shut. The tube rumbles on to Euston. I’m sat there blinking, wondering what the fuck just happened.

When we eventually meet up at Euston and manage to make it up to my gaff without any further injuries, we meet up with Nicky’s girlfriend. “What happened to you?” she asks, seeing Nicky’s latest black eye and split lip.

I say: “He got into a fight with a midget on the tube.”

And the scary thing, the really scary part of this is, Nicky’s girlfriend didn’t even bat an eyelid, she just shrugged as if this was the most normal thing to happen when travelling on the Underground...

I learned after this that Nicky apparently has a thing for midgets...
( SpankyHanky, Thu 21 Jan 2010, 13:57, 3 replies)

I read this, and, at the end, on seeing it was you, tried to work out the awful spang-worthy pun that you'd made
... and, disappointed, have to conclude that this is one of the finest stories I've ever read.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 21 Jan 2010, 14:06, closed)

And like the rest of his fantastical stories
from his incredibly interesting life. Its most likely fiction.
( Peej, Fri 22 Jan 2010, 19:25, closed)

GLEES!!!!!
Fail midget bashing :D
( Jeccius Steam Borderlands 2 junkie, Thu 28 Jan 2010, 13:29, closed)