I coulda been a doctor, me.
So there we were. Pasty faced nerds, about to sit down to a good hard game of Cosmic Encounter. (It's a wonder we weren't knee deep in totty, really.)

Being teenagers and therefore stupid, we decided to race through my mate's house to the room where we had all the gaming stuff. One of our lot then discovered that if you try to slow down whilst running across a rug that's on a polished floor, you perform a credible bicycle kick and land like a sack of shit on the small of your back.

So far, so funny. However, when he landed there was a loud cracking noise and he started to scream in pain. "My back! My back! I've broken my back!"

If this happened today, I would be very worried, would keep him from moving and call an ambulance. Probably. But then, aged 14, I had a more direct outlook on medical care.

"Oh no you haven't you big poof, get your fat arse off the floor. If you'd broken your back you'd not feel -this-."

*cue a series of vigorous kicks*

Thatcher would've been proud.

In the end, it turns out that I was right. He'd landed on a plastic dice case which had merely embedded itself into his tender flesh. He probably lost 1 HP or something.

tldr: I cured a broken spine, like a boss
(csdaveuk, Mon 6 Oct 2014, 11:48, Reply)