While travelling a couple of years ago
Oh, what a question. I was in India with my friend Ted (great guy, even if we did get at each other's throats this particular trip. he had a highly interesting sense of politeness - the type of guy that tells people to say "please" and "thank you" no matter how much of a pompous ass it makes him sound, but will quite happily call you a cumguzzling piglicker when he's angry), jaunting round Mumbai in a hired rickshaw. We'd found some work with a local restaurant, basically trying to drum up business for them. I say "restaurant" I mean "KFC".

And of course what it meant was a fucking chicken suit.

Me and Ted frequently got into arguments about who was going to wear the chicken suit, especially on hot days (and it REALLY gets hot in Mumbai). It smelt fucking horrific after only a couple of hours of wearing it, and we were going to be doing it for at least two weeks. It was a hardship I was willing to put up with though, as it allowed us to indulge in the finer points of Mumbai's nightlife. Honestly, if you've never been, it's superb. Gorgeous, modern-thinking girls with old-fashioned manners, jazz, hip-hop and rock clubs, and no vomiting drunken twats in sight. Not sure how it's held up after the events of last year (which really got to me, for obvious reasons), but it was amazing when I was there.

But right at this moment, I was not in a sophisticated, air-conditioned bar drinking whisky and chatting to exotic beauties.

I was in a chicken suit. And it was burning.

We'd been driving round for a while trying to find a good patch, and Ted had gotten us hopelessly lost. We were far from the bustling centre of the city and it looked like we were heading further and further into the suburbs and slums. We just thought "fuck it" and decided to explore for the day. We came across rubbish tips and workhouses and markets and god knows what else in the next hour or so, and then, as we slowly moved down a side street in the middle of the most crowded districts, we saw her.

A stunning, perfect example of the subcontinent's beauty. Long black hair, beautiful skin, the deepest, brownest, gorgeous eyes. Dressed in the most ornate sari, covered in jewellery, surrounded by admirers, it was like a scene from a Bollywood musical. Except without the music and dancing. So, er, I guess, a scene from India. She was sitting in the middle of what was apparently a town square, seemingly holding audience with the people around her, serene and beautiful, an oasis of calm in an endless desert of madness. I was in love.

Anyway, I was still in this fucking chicken suit. Did I neglect to mention I was naked underneath? I think I did. Well, I was. It gets hot in Mumbai. So I couldn't take it off. Not me, anyway. Clearly some of the previous contributors would have no qualms about ditching the fucking thing and riding round Mumbai naked in a rickshaw, but I have some more class than that. So I still had my chicken suit on. I couldn't get out and confront this vision of goddess-like beauty wearing a sodding chicken suit. Oh no. I stayed in the bloody rickshaw out of sight.

Ted, though, unencumbered by the avian ensemble, could. So the fucker did. He walked enraptured, in a trance, through the middle of the bowed crowd, towards her. Serenely, she carried on talking, until he got to a couple of metres from her, at which she looked up, startled, and flew to her feet. Ted also looked startled at this sudden display of activity, as did the rest of the crowd, who abandoned their heads-down positions. She demanded of him, (in English, obviously noting his western appearance) "Who are you, intruder?"

Ted upgraded from startled to panicked as he realised he had obviously stumbled into some kind of voodoo ceremony.

"Erm, erm, I'm Ted, hi, so sorry, I didn't mea-"

"You have disturbed our sacred rites."

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean anything by it!"

I confess I was laughing my ass off at this point, although my laughing was tempered by the possibility of Ted being pulled apart by an angry mob. We argued, but I liked him, so of course I thought "Aw squawking hell, I'm going to have to go rescue the bugger."

But Ted was already being demonized by this priestess or whatever she was -

"I call on the Gods to curse you! Send us a messenger, O great deities!"

"No no, no need for that, I'm just going, alright, see, I'm leaving!"

At this point I leapt from the rickshaw, determined to rescue my buddy from a grisly end and earn his eternal gratitude, plus the right to laugh at him forever for his shit-yourself backtracking.

But the chicken suit had an unexpected effect.

I was cheered by the crowd as I emerged from between the buildings at a run. They crowed at me and whooped and bowed as their priestess, admittedly, looked rather shocked that her calls for a messenger from the Gods had apparently been answered. But she was a smart one. She quickly composed herself and shouted "A new deity! The gods have sent us a new deity!" And then she picked up on the form of the new deity, and she knew what she had to do.

She called for the very worst curse a chicken could ever enact on a human being.

"An hex! Peck Ted, new deity!"

....I am so very, very sorry.
(cypherspace is not a toaster, Thu 28 May 2009, 16:53, 7 replies)

Thats actually
fucking marvellous...

if I had a cap I would doff it...

*click*
( SpankyHanky, Thu 28 May 2009, 17:02, closed)

Ai
thangyew, sir. From the acknowledged master of rambling bollocks that is high praise indeed.
(cypherspace is not a toaster, Thu 28 May 2009, 17:09, closed)

And I thank you in return...
but must inform you that my bollocks are not rambling... just oddly mishapen and lumpy...
( SpankyHanky, Thu 28 May 2009, 17:11, closed)

Good lord
That's fantastic.
(Scritty Bakerman., Thu 28 May 2009, 19:56, closed)

That's
a good one. Well done :)

*click*
( chart cat has an itch, Fri 29 May 2009, 7:37, closed)

.
May I say it was a most excellent yarn sir.
( Funkenschlag still likes dogs more than cats, Fri 29 May 2009, 10:58, closed)

*click*
A marvellously written tale and a wonderful pun.

Cheers for that
(Rotimer was micturating windward at, Fri 29 May 2009, 13:28, closed)