A Tenuous Tale of Two Types of Terrified…

My good friend, dear Captain Placid, is a massive, hairy, scary grizzly bear of a man. On befriending you, he can be amongst the most warmhearted, soft as shite, generous powderkeg of funnies you are ever likely to meet, but at the merest hint of something that qualifies as an injustice, he can go off like a cheap firework and turn into a snarling, weapons grade, silver backed gorilla.

I’ve known the old scrote for many years – this means I can fortunately get away with certain things (despite the fact that in the pub I still ensure I sit just out of reach of him so I can rapidly bolt should he finally snap to my non-stop piss-taking.)

A couple of weeks ago – the big bugger borked his beloved Blackberry (yup, you guessed it - he was rat-arsed at the time) subsequently denting it a bit and breaking the screen. He was understandably narked a tad, and sought out ways to remedy this tragedy. He checked online and the repair job looked pretty fiddly, and because of his hands like cow’s tits and big sausage-fingers, CP wisely decided to employ a professional to do the job rather than fork out for the parts and make a complete bollock up of it. Good choice I reckon.

He then trawled the ‘tinterwebz’ further and checked out a few places online, but was never fully happy with either the service promised, price, or the fact that they would have to keep his precious phone with them for the next millennium before they would even have a sniff of it.

‘Fuck this for a Jaffa Cake’ Exclaimed the Captain, getting somewhat frustrated.

Fast forward (a bit) to last week…we were in the pub with some friends (including a couple of fellow B3tards), and CP was whinging like a little bitch belligerently bemoaning about what he should do regarding his newly fucked-up-phone predicament, when one of the locals piped up with a friendly voice: “Hey Cap, there are a couple of shops nearby that will sort that for ya”

Monsieur Placid was intrigued. “Do tell” he responded (doing his best effort to smile without looking too intimidating as he was in ‘friendly, yet heavily refreshed mode’ at this point).

He was then given the locations of two shops nearby that he was certain could satisfy CP’s stringent requirements to get the job done – i.e: Cheaper, faster, and significantly better quality than a blowie from a Taiwanese lady boy.

The very next day he set off like an overstuffed whippet, ready to plunge into the magical, enchanting world of shitty mobile repair shops in darkest Coventry.

The first shop was a disappointment; the staff annoyed CP by not giving him assurances with completion times, ‘umm’d and ‘ah’d about whether they had the right parts, and when they said they wouldn’t give him a price until after the work was completed, our hero then promptly told them where they could shove their entire shop, before kindly volunteering to assist with the process.

The next place however, was a different story. The guy seemed professional and courteous, and said he would do it right away, had the parts on site, he would be quick, and for only £35. Result!

Before he handed the patient over he sent me a quick text: ‘Pooflake you preposterous twat. Heavy drinking is still on for 2pm, but don’t try to contact me until then, I’m just handing my phone over now to get it fixed. They’ll have it for the next hour or so.’

Now, I don’t know what came over me, but suddenly I concocted a quite blisteringly stupid plan. I left it about 45-50 minutes, thinking that the repair work would be nearing completion and that the phone was probably being tested to see if everything still worked ok. With this in mind, I then sent the following text, hoping that the repair guy would be likely to read it.

“(CP’s real name), you dirty bastard! Big Todj Tony has just let me know how you two broke your phone. How the fuck did you manage to fit it all the way up his arse? Anyway, he says it was ‘great on vibrate…’?

I then waited, wondering if the repair guy would get to read the text whilst holding the now offending item in his hands. I didn’t have to wait too long to find out

Later that day, The Captain dutifully joined me for some drinkiepoos, and I asked him how his experience with the phone fixing had gone.

“A bit odd, to be honest Poofers…”, he declared. “The guy seemed really friendly when I first gave him the phone, but when I went back later, the guy looked…well…different. Sort of ‘scared’, but disgusted at the same time. All I did was smile at him and pay, but he wouldn’t look me in the eye. I swear he was shaking! Anyway, he then handed the phone to me...in a plastic bag...with his arm outstretched!”

“PFFFT!” I said before regaining some composure. “Erm..I mean, Pah!, some people eh?” I continued, shrugging my shoulders whilst doing a frankly crap attempt at stifling my giggles.

“I suppose…” He continued. “What’s even stranger is I’m sure I heard him say ‘Don’t come back’ under his breath as I left!”

With that, I couldn’t hold it in any more. “Mwuhahahahahahahaaaaa!” I chortled, much to the Captain’s bemusement as I tried to imagine what must’ve been going through the poor repair guy’s mind. Nobody likes being confronted by the sight of a huge bearded rhinoceros of a man who had just been ‘outed’ as to being into kinky bum fun.
.
And the ‘terrified’ bit? Well, obviously he’s since discovered the text and sussed what happened, so now I’m terrified for my life – If you don’t hear from me again then please call the Rozzers, because it’s very likely that Captain Placid has since bumped into me in a dark alley and squished me like a flabby, over-ripe tomato
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Tue 10 Apr 2012, 12:30, 16 replies)

Fucking
wonderful stuff old boy.
( The Mock Turtle ™ --- Thinks you are a cunt, on, Tue 10 Apr 2012, 12:50, closed)

Aww, you are kind...

Update: I also hadn't told Captain Placid that I was going to post about this either, and he's picking me up for (liquid) lunch in 5 minutes!

*gulps*

Somehow I think I'll be paying for the beers...
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Tue 10 Apr 2012, 12:54, closed)

Ha ha...
...you are so gonna get it from CP...
(nikg33 waiting for the weekend, Tue 10 Apr 2012, 12:59, closed)

Hard and fast that's how Pooflake likes it.

( The Mock Turtle ™ --- Thinks you are a cunt, on, Tue 10 Apr 2012, 14:40, closed)

How did you know?...

Ah...now I remember our romantic afternoon in that B&B in Bromsgrove.

Do I still owe you your 48p fee for semi-violent, overtly gratuitous sexual favours?

If so, Please put it on my tab*. Best money I ever spent I reckon....


*When I say 'tab' I mean 'Winkie' :)
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Tue 10 Apr 2012, 15:01, closed)

Dirty






































Bitch.
( The Mock Turtle ™ --- Thinks you are a cunt, on, Tue 10 Apr 2012, 21:05, closed)

fuck cp todj is gona get payback that fucking phone hurt
(todj, Tue 10 Apr 2012, 16:22, closed)

Sorry, mate.

Hang on...?

I was making that bit up! You didn't have to re-enact the scenario, Todj! Euw!

BTW - If anything is stuck up there I have Richard Gere's phone number on speed-dial - perhaps he could lend you his hamster?
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Tue 10 Apr 2012, 16:30, closed)

'absolutely hilarious'

(nikg33 waiting for the weekend, Tue 10 Apr 2012, 16:34, closed)

fantastic and also a intriguingly brief reflection into the lunacy of your life.
Im clicking it not because im a fan of your stories but because this will probably be the last click you get to read.
(Cov Boy, Tue 10 Apr 2012, 13:11, closed)

Bye Pooflake.

( Ring Of Fire A petty, drooling belming butthurt retard., Tue 10 Apr 2012, 14:11, closed)

It was nice knowing you pooflake.
I'll miss you.
( skeltonator Needs some new daps., Tue 10 Apr 2012, 14:31, closed)

I don't know how you do it mr flake
But i'm fucking glad that you do. Have a click (with my condolences on your impending death at the hands of Mr Placid)
(King Nightmare, Tue 10 Apr 2012, 15:07, closed)

All is well with the inimitable Pooflake
I've forgiven him for the practical joke and we've christened the aforementioned Blackberry as a 'Brownberry'.
Todj, on the other hand, has descended into a twitching wreck whenever he hears 'ring'tones.
Geddit? RING tones? And he's called Tony, as in 'Tone'.

Please yourselves.
(Captain Placid 24/7 ball gags, brownie mix and clown porn, Tue 10 Apr 2012, 16:10, closed)

Thank you for resisting the urge to kill, sir...

*is still scared*

However, that reminds me...

I forgot to mention in my post that 'Big Todj Tony' is actually a real person, who was also (quite unpleasantly) surprised to discover that I had chosen him as the recepticle for the 'Brownberry incident'.

So now I'm terrified that he will tear me a new one...I may call him to apologise, but I worry about where his phone will be if I do :(
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Tue 10 Apr 2012, 16:18, closed)

Youve done it again!
Happy to hear that you're going to live on to entertain us
Big Clicky
(The Magic Number is neither magic nor a number, Wed 11 Apr 2012, 10:03, closed)