Salmon, Champagne & Garden Hedges
As many of you B3tonians will be aware, it has been fucking cold and icy this Christmas. I had my works night out in a function suite in Hampden Stadium this year. The very same place where the Scotland football team lose all their home games every few months. I was dressed up in a fancy suit and after I ate my salmon steak for dinner, I proceeded to pour as much beer into my face as I could humanly manage.

The night went by uneventfully enough, until I decided I wanted to steal a mascot suit and run onto the pitch for a game of football. While trying to open a fire exit to the pitch I was stopped by a security guard who threatened me using words like “life ban” and “criminal prosecution”. I may have been drunk, but I didn’t fancy spending the night in a police cell, so I returned to my table in search of something to drink and someone to fornicate with.

I eventually found a woman who managed to put up with me for longer than five minutes so we sat down at a table. Being the kind and generous guy that I am (read: stupidly drunk and horny), I bought us a bottle of champagne. Things started to go downhill pretty quickly. I was throwing back glasses faster than was reasonably safe and my stomach soon began to tell me that it wasn’t best pleased with what I was drinking.

Eventually the woman got sick of me and left with her friends so I finished up the rest of the champagne. It was near enough leaving time anyway and there weren’t any realistic opportunities to bring someone home so I found a mate of mine and we left too. It was very snowy and icy out and I did my best to walk him to the bus stop without falling flat on my face, before continuing on my way home. Fortunately for me my flat is within ten minutes walking distance of Hampden so the bitterly cold wind and icy paths didn’t bother me too much. Until I felt it coming...

I was walking down a side street when suddenly I felt that unmistakable sensation in the back of my throat and the pit of my stomach. I knew what was next. I panicked as I looked around for a suitable place to expel my toxic mixture of beer and champagne. Upon noticing a gap in the garden hedges next to me, I readied myself for the violent convulsions I knew were forthcoming. Skidding over to the hedge, I positioned myself so that I was facing the gap. As soon as I thrust my head forward expecting to throw up, my feet gave way on the ice, sending my body hurling towards the hedge. I landed face-first in the hedge, with my arms and legs covered in snow and spread out wide like a snow-angel in a garden.

I then proceeded to vomit everywhere. All over my face. All over my arms. All over my bright white shirt. Vomit and bile covered everything.

When I eventually managed to pick myself up off the ground, I surveyed the scene. It didn’t even occur to me at the time to take a picture but I wish I had. The hedge was gleaming white under the glistening moon, except for a giant human-shaped hole, complete with arms and legs flailing everywhere like a cartoon character running through a wall, completely filled with orangey-red spew from head to toe.
( Fat Fred too weird to live, too rare to die, Fri 8 Jan 2010, 20:45, Reply)