@Ghost-of-a-Duke
Once upon a time, lived a very, very old man called Eric, who had lived a most adventurous lifetime. Indeed, his very birth into the world had been one of extraordinary circumstance and it was very near-miraculous that he existed at all. His father was wounded, in a most horrendous accident, involving a German bayonet, during WW1. Coincidentally, at precisely the same time, his mother was also seriously injured in a house fire, barely escaping with her life. They met at a rehabilitation hospital in England where, as luck would have it, their physiotherapist, was a mutual friend of both.
"Fate seems to have wanted you to meet," he had told them, "I wonder to what end?"
In his, now, squeaky voice, Berty said, " Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're going to get".
As it transpired, fate had decided to give them a son, born into the world at a plump 13 pounds and 3 ounces. - Which was a record weight for the hospital and they, Berty and Gert, decided to call him Harold (who would eventually become Prime Minister of Britain). Of course, young Harold had grown up hating his name and had insisted on being referred to by his middle name, Eric.
Eric’s adventures began almost immediately when, at just 18 months of age Gert sat him on the kitchen draining board whilst she did the ironing. His inquisitive nature led to his attempting to climb down the drain, his podgy fingers getting firmly trapped in the process. (It took 3 firemen and a tub of vaseline to free the young chap). This incident was never quite forgotten, simply because it would soon be followed by similar happenings. In fact, only 6 short months passed before our mischievous adventurer was spotted by terrified onlookers, dangling from a 5th-floor balcony. Losing his grip he started plummeting to a certain death when out of panic he started flapping his arms and low and behold he managed to alight softly to the amazement of the heretofore terrified throng. The fortunate tyke having caught the elastic on his underpants on a washing line near the ground floor flats, slow his descent as he gently touched the floor. Fate it seemed had bigger plans for Eric, plans that really showed their hand on his 6th birthday.
It started like any other day - well, not quite as it was his birthday, but it could have been any other birthday, at least that was what his family planned for. Why Berty decided to buy Eric his first pair of roller skates remains a mystery given that their house was situated at the top of “Hill Street” which had a 1:3 incline, or more important from Eric’s point of view a 1:3 decline. He skated in his back yard, along with his birthday guests, but one by one they left, and while his parents tidied up he left through the side gate. Unlike any 6 year old who had ever existed in the annals of history, Eric was absolutely fearless. He eyed up the slope on the road, remembering it was time of very few automobiles, and, setting his sight on the pond at the very bottom of his hill, he pushed off. Too late he remembered Berty telling him to never go swimming in that same pond because it was purported to be the residence of a 14 foot crocodile and as he had little practice stopping he had to think of a way to do so and very quickly as the pond was fast approaching and a set of eyes was protruding at the water's edge. Fortunately for Eric, the crocodile was the product of a fatherly exaggeration, the eyes belonging to a large warty toad visibly discombobulated by his speedy approach. So discombobulated in fact that the toad was almost transfixed, he just had time to turn around before Eric arrived at the waters edge where the toads slimy back acted as a ramp sending him shooting across and over the pond like an Olympic ski jumper.
Young Eric now viewed himself immortal, a self-belief of invincibility that would serve him well, aged nine, when set upon by the school bully. Gordon, the bully, was unaware of Eric's "powers" and said to him, "Gimme your lunch money or I'll make you eat this", holding out what looked to Eric like dog poo, in a paper bag.
"I'll give you one opportunity to walk away," replied Eric, cooler than a cucumber.
Much to nobody’s surprise the bully did walk away, but not before shoving Eric’s head inside the brown paper bag which did indeed contain a dog poo, Eric washed his face in the now familiar pond and stomped home as menacingly as he could in his third pair of roller skates swearing to the heavens that he would never be bullied again!
@kevcvs57 saidOnce upon a time, lived a very, very old man called Eric, who had lived a most adventurous lifetime. Indeed, his very birth into the world had been one of extraordinary circumstance and it was very near-miraculous that he existed at all. His father was wounded, in a most horrendous accident, involving a German bayonet, during WW1. Coincidentally, at precisely the same time, his mother was also seriously injured in a house fire, barely escaping with her life. They met at a rehabilitation hospital in England where, as luck would have it, their physiotherapist, was a mutual friend of both.
@Ghost-of-a-Duke
Once upon a time, lived a very, very old man called Eric, who had lived a most adventurous lifetime. Indeed, his very birth into the world had been one of extraordinary circumstance and it was very near-miraculous that he existed at all. His father was wounded, in a most horrendous accident, involving a German bayonet, during WW1. Coincidentally, at precise ...[text shortened]... uld in his third pair of roller skates swearing to the heavens that he would never be bullied again!
"Fate seems to have wanted you to meet," he had told them, "I wonder to what end?"
In his, now, squeaky voice, Berty said, " Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're going to get".
As it transpired, fate had decided to give them a son, born into the world at a plump 13 pounds and 3 ounces. - Which was a record weight for the hospital and they, Berty and Gert, decided to call him Harold (who would eventually become Prime Minister of Britain). Of course, young Harold had grown up hating his name and had insisted on being referred to by his middle name, Eric.
Eric’s adventures began almost immediately when, at just 18 months of age Gert sat him on the kitchen draining board whilst she did the ironing. His inquisitive nature led to his attempting to climb down the drain, his podgy fingers getting firmly trapped in the process. (It took 3 firemen and a tub of vaseline to free the young chap). This incident was never quite forgotten, simply because it would soon be followed by similar happenings. In fact, only 6 short months passed before our mischievous adventurer was spotted by terrified onlookers, dangling from a 5th-floor balcony. Losing his grip he started plummeting to a certain death when out of panic he started flapping his arms and low and behold he managed to alight softly to the amazement of the heretofore terrified throng. The fortunate tyke having caught the elastic on his underpants on a washing line near the ground floor flats, slow his descent as he gently touched the floor. Fate it seemed had bigger plans for Eric, plans that really showed their hand on his 6th birthday.
It started like any other day - well, not quite as it was his birthday, but it could have been any other birthday, at least that was what his family planned for. Why Berty decided to buy Eric his first pair of roller skates remains a mystery given that their house was situated at the top of “Hill Street” which had a 1:3 incline, or more important from Eric’s point of view a 1:3 decline. He skated in his back yard, along with his birthday guests, but one by one they left, and while his parents tidied up he left through the side gate. Unlike any 6 year old who had ever existed in the annals of history, Eric was absolutely fearless. He eyed up the slope on the road, remembering it was time of very few automobiles, and, setting his sight on the pond at the very bottom of his hill, he pushed off. Too late he remembered Berty telling him to never go swimming in that same pond because it was purported to be the residence of a 14 foot crocodile and as he had little practice stopping he had to think of a way to do so and very quickly as the pond was fast approaching and a set of eyes was protruding at the water's edge. Fortunately for Eric, the crocodile was the product of a fatherly exaggeration, the eyes belonging to a large warty toad visibly discombobulated by his speedy approach. So discombobulated in fact that the toad was almost transfixed, he just had time to turn around before Eric arrived at the waters edge where the toads slimy back acted as a ramp sending him shooting across and over the pond like an Olympic ski jumper.
Young Eric now viewed himself immortal, a self-belief of invincibility that would serve him well, aged nine, when set upon by the school bully. Gordon, the bully, was unaware of Eric's "powers" and said to him, "Gimme your lunch money or I'll make you eat this", holding out what looked to Eric like dog poo, in a paper bag.
"I'll give you one opportunity to walk away," replied Eric, cooler than a cucumber.
Much to nobody’s surprise the bully did walk away, but not before shoving Eric’s head inside the brown paper bag which did indeed contain a dog poo, Eric washed his face in the now familiar pond and stomped home as menacingly as he could in his third pair of roller skates swearing to the heavens that he would never be bullied again! - Ego bruised, but not broken, Eric invented something that very evening that would change his life forever.
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@ghost-of-a-duke saidOnce upon a time, lived a very, very old man called Eric, who had lived a most adventurous lifetime. Indeed, his very birth into the world had been one of extraordinary circumstance and it was very near-miraculous that he existed at all. His father was wounded, in a most horrendous accident, involving a German bayonet, during WW1. Coincidentally, at precisely the same time, his mother was also seriously injured in a house fire, barely escaping with her life. They met at a rehabilitation hospital in England where, as luck would have it, their physiotherapist, was a mutual friend of both.
Once upon a time, lived a very, very old man called Eric, who had lived a most adventurous lifetime. Indeed, his very birth into the world had been one of extraordinary circumstance and it was very near-miraculous that he existed at all. His father was wounded, in a most horrendous accident, involving a German bayonet, during WW1. Coincidentally, at precisely the same ...[text shortened]... uised, but not broken, Eric invented something that very evening that would change his life forever.
"Fate seems to have wanted you to meet," he had told them, "I wonder to what end?"
In his, now, squeaky voice, Berty said, " Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're going to get".
As it transpired, fate had decided to give them a son, born into the world at a plump 13 pounds and 3 ounces. - Which was a record weight for the hospital and they, Berty and Gert, decided to call him Harold (who would eventually become Prime Minister of Britain). Of course, young Harold had grown up hating his name and had insisted on being referred to by his middle name, Eric.
Eric’s adventures began almost immediately when, at just 18 months of age Gert sat him on the kitchen draining board whilst she did the ironing. His inquisitive nature led to his attempting to climb down the drain, his podgy fingers getting firmly trapped in the process. (It took 3 firemen and a tub of vaseline to free the young chap). This incident was never quite forgotten, simply because it would soon be followed by similar happenings. In fact, only 6 short months passed before our mischievous adventurer was spotted by terrified onlookers, dangling from a 5th-floor balcony. Losing his grip he started plummeting to a certain death when out of panic he started flapping his arms and low and behold he managed to alight softly to the amazement of the heretofore terrified throng. The fortunate tyke having caught the elastic on his underpants on a washing line near the ground floor flats, slow his descent as he gently touched the floor. Fate it seemed had bigger plans for Eric, plans that really showed their hand on his 6th birthday.
It started like any other day - well, not quite as it was his birthday, but it could have been any other birthday, at least that was what his family planned for. Why Berty decided to buy Eric his first pair of roller skates remains a mystery given that their house was situated at the top of “Hill Street” which had a 1:3 incline, or more important from Eric’s point of view a 1:3 decline. He skated in his back yard, along with his birthday guests, but one by one they left, and while his parents tidied up he left through the side gate. Unlike any 6 year old who had ever existed in the annals of history, Eric was absolutely fearless. He eyed up the slope on the road, remembering it was time of very few automobiles, and, setting his sight on the pond at the very bottom of his hill, he pushed off. Too late he remembered Berty telling him to never go swimming in that same pond because it was purported to be the residence of a 14 foot crocodile and as he had little practice stopping he had to think of a way to do so and very quickly as the pond was fast approaching and a set of eyes was protruding at the water's edge. Fortunately for Eric, the crocodile was the product of a fatherly exaggeration, the eyes belonging to a large warty toad visibly discombobulated by his speedy approach. So discombobulated in fact that the toad was almost transfixed, he just had time to turn around before Eric arrived at the waters edge where the toads slimy back acted as a ramp sending him shooting across and over the pond like an Olympic ski jumper.
Young Eric now viewed himself immortal, a self-belief of invincibility that would serve him well, aged nine, when set upon by the school bully. Gordon, the bully, was unaware of Eric's "powers" and said to him, "Gimme your lunch money or I'll make you eat this", holding out what looked to Eric like dog poo, in a paper bag.
"I'll give you one opportunity to walk away," replied Eric, cooler than a cucumber.
Much to nobody’s surprise the bully did walk away, but not before shoving Eric’s head inside the brown paper bag which did indeed contain a dog poo, Eric washed his face in the now familiar pond and stomped home as menacingly as he could in his third pair of roller skates swearing to the heavens that he would never be bullied again! - Ego bruised, but not broken, Eric invented something that very evening that would change his life forever.
In his makeshift laboratory, at the back of his mum's garden shed, he took the little piece of skin, he'd managed to get when he scratched the bully from under his finger nail and placed it on a slide inserting it into his electron microscope to see if he was able to get a good bit of DNA...he had and like the mad scientist he'd hoped to become, he cackled at what he was planning to do next.
@Great-Big-Stees
Once upon a time, lived a very, very old man called Eric, who had lived a most adventurous lifetime. Indeed, his very birth into the world had been one of extraordinary circumstance and it was very near-miraculous that he existed at all. His father was wounded, in a most horrendous accident, involving a German bayonet, during WW1. Coincidentally, at precisely the same time, his mother was also seriously injured in a house fire, barely escaping with her life. They met at a rehabilitation hospital in England where, as luck would have it, their physiotherapist, was a mutual friend of both.
"Fate seems to have wanted you to meet," he had told them, "I wonder to what end?"
In his, now, squeaky voice, Berty said, " Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're going to get".
As it transpired, fate had decided to give them a son, born into the world at a plump 13 pounds and 3 ounces. - Which was a record weight for the hospital and they, Berty and Gert, decided to call him Harold (who would eventually become Prime Minister of Britain). Of course, young Harold had grown up hating his name and had insisted on being referred to by his middle name, Eric.
Eric’s adventures began almost immediately when, at just 18 months of age Gert sat him on the kitchen draining board whilst she did the ironing. His inquisitive nature led to his attempting to climb down the drain, his podgy fingers getting firmly trapped in the process. (It took 3 firemen and a tub of vaseline to free the young chap). This incident was never quite forgotten, simply because it would soon be followed by similar happenings. In fact, only 6 short months passed before our mischievous adventurer was spotted by terrified onlookers, dangling from a 5th-floor balcony. Losing his grip he started plummeting to a certain death when out of panic he started flapping his arms and low and behold he managed to alight softly to the amazement of the heretofore terrified throng. The fortunate tyke having caught the elastic on his underpants on a washing line near the ground floor flats, slow his descent as he gently touched the floor. Fate it seemed had bigger plans for Eric, plans that really showed their hand on his 6th birthday.
It started like any other day - well, not quite as it was his birthday, but it could have been any other birthday, at least that was what his family planned for. Why Berty decided to buy Eric his first pair of roller skates remains a mystery given that their house was situated at the top of “Hill Street” which had a 1:3 incline, or more important from Eric’s point of view a 1:3 decline. He skated in his back yard, along with his birthday guests, but one by one they left, and while his parents tidied up he left through the side gate. Unlike any 6 year old who had ever existed in the annals of history, Eric was absolutely fearless. He eyed up the slope on the road, remembering it was time of very few automobiles, and, setting his sight on the pond at the very bottom of his hill, he pushed off. Too late he remembered Berty telling him to never go swimming in that same pond because it was purported to be the residence of a 14 foot crocodile and as he had little practice stopping he had to think of a way to do so and very quickly as the pond was fast approaching and a set of eyes was protruding at the water's edge. Fortunately for Eric, the crocodile was the product of a fatherly exaggeration, the eyes belonging to a large warty toad visibly discombobulated by his speedy approach. So discombobulated in fact that the toad was almost transfixed, he just had time to turn around before Eric arrived at the waters edge where the toads slimy back acted as a ramp sending him shooting across and over the pond like an Olympic ski jumper.
Young Eric now viewed himself immortal, a self-belief of invincibility that would serve him well, aged nine, when set upon by the school bully. Gordon, the bully, was unaware of Eric's "powers" and said to him, "Gimme your lunch money or I'll make you eat this", holding out what looked to Eric like dog poo, in a paper bag.
"I'll give you one opportunity to walk away," replied Eric, cooler than a cucumber.
Much to nobody’s surprise the bully did walk away, but not before shoving Eric’s head inside the brown paper bag which did indeed contain a dog poo, Eric washed his face in the now familiar pond and stomped home as menacingly as he could in his third pair of roller skates swearing to the heavens that he would never be bullied again! - Ego bruised, but not broken, Eric invented something that very evening that would change his life forever. In his makeshift laboratory, at the back of his mum's garden shed, he took the little piece of skin, he'd managed to get when he scratched the bully from under his finger nail and placed it on a slide inserting it into his electron microscope to see if he was able to get a good bit of DNA...he had and like the mad scientist he'd hoped to become, he cackled at what he was planning to do next. Over the next 3 months, Eric successfully bred a colony of wasps conditioned to respond unfavourably to Gordon's DNA.
@ghost-of-a-duke saidIt wasn't long before Eric realised that planning evil things made him truly happy.
@Great-Big-Stees
Once upon a time, lived a very, very old man called Eric, who had lived a most adventurous lifetime. Indeed, his very birth into the world had been one of extraordinary circumstance and it was very near-miraculous that he existed at all. His father was wounded, in a most horrendous accident, involving a German bayonet, during WW1. Coincidentally, a ...[text shortened]... onths, Eric successfully bred a colony of wasps conditioned to respond unfavourably to Gordon's DNA.
(I need help to add to the full text.)
@torunn saidOnce upon a time, lived a very, very old man called Eric, who had lived a most adventurous lifetime. Indeed, his very birth into the world had been one of extraordinary circumstance and it was very near-miraculous that he existed at all. His father was wounded, in a most horrendous accident, involving a German bayonet, during WW1. Coincidentally, at precisely the same time, his mother was also seriously injured in a house fire, barely escaping with her life. They met at a rehabilitation hospital in England where, as luck would have it, their physiotherapist, was a mutual friend of both.
It wasn't long before Eric realised that planning evil things made him truly happy.
(I need help to add to the full text.)
"Fate seems to have wanted you to meet," he had told them, "I wonder to what end?"
In his, now, squeaky voice, Berty said, " Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're going to get".
As it transpired, fate had decided to give them a son, born into the world at a plump 13 pounds and 3 ounces. - Which was a record weight for the hospital and they, Berty and Gert, decided to call him Harold (who would eventually become Prime Minister of Britain). Of course, young Harold had grown up hating his name and had insisted on being referred to by his middle name, Eric.
Eric’s adventures began almost immediately when, at just 18 months of age Gert sat him on the kitchen draining board whilst she did the ironing. His inquisitive nature led to his attempting to climb down the drain, his podgy fingers getting firmly trapped in the process. (It took 3 firemen and a tub of vaseline to free the young chap). This incident was never quite forgotten, simply because it would soon be followed by similar happenings. In fact, only 6 short months passed before our mischievous adventurer was spotted by terrified onlookers, dangling from a 5th-floor balcony. Losing his grip he started plummeting to a certain death when out of panic he started flapping his arms and low and behold he managed to alight softly to the amazement of the heretofore terrified throng. The fortunate tyke having caught the elastic on his underpants on a washing line near the ground floor flats, slow his descent as he gently touched the floor. Fate it seemed had bigger plans for Eric, plans that really showed their hand on his 6th birthday.
It started like any other day - well, not quite as it was his birthday, but it could have been any other birthday, at least that was what his family planned for. Why Berty decided to buy Eric his first pair of roller skates remains a mystery given that their house was situated at the top of “Hill Street” which had a 1:3 incline, or more important from Eric’s point of view a 1:3 decline. He skated in his back yard, along with his birthday guests, but one by one they left, and while his parents tidied up he left through the side gate. Unlike any 6 year old who had ever existed in the annals of history, Eric was absolutely fearless. He eyed up the slope on the road, remembering it was time of very few automobiles, and, setting his sight on the pond at the very bottom of his hill, he pushed off. Too late he remembered Berty telling him to never go swimming in that same pond because it was purported to be the residence of a 14 foot crocodile and as he had little practice stopping he had to think of a way to do so and very quickly as the pond was fast approaching and a set of eyes was protruding at the water's edge. Fortunately for Eric, the crocodile was the product of a fatherly exaggeration, the eyes belonging to a large warty toad visibly discombobulated by his speedy approach. So discombobulated in fact that the toad was almost transfixed, he just had time to turn around before Eric arrived at the waters edge where the toads slimy back acted as a ramp sending him shooting across and over the pond like an Olympic ski jumper.
Young Eric now viewed himself immortal, a self-belief of invincibility that would serve him well, aged nine, when set upon by the school bully. Gordon, the bully, was unaware of Eric's "powers" and said to him, "Gimme your lunch money or I'll make you eat this", holding out what looked to Eric like dog poo, in a paper bag.
"I'll give you one opportunity to walk away," replied Eric, cooler than a cucumber.
Much to nobody’s surprise the bully did walk away, but not before shoving Eric’s head inside the brown paper bag which did indeed contain a dog poo, Eric washed his face in the now familiar pond and stomped home as menacingly as he could in his third pair of roller skates swearing to the heavens that he would never be bullied again! - Ego bruised, but not broken, Eric invented something that very evening that would change his life forever. In his makeshift laboratory, at the back of his mum's garden shed, he took the little piece of skin, he'd managed to get when he scratched the bully from under his fingernail and placed it on a slide inserting it into his electron microscope to see if he was able to get a good bit of DNA...he had and like the mad scientist he'd hoped to become, he cackled at what he was planning to do next. Over the next 3 months, Eric successfully bred a colony of wasps conditioned to respond unfavourably to Gordon's DNA.
It wasn't long before Eric realised that planning evil things made him truly happy. Indeed, the day he finally released the wasps, and watched them swarm off in search of Gordon, was one of the happiest of his life.
@ghost-of-a-duke saidOnce upon a time, lived a very, very old man called Eric, who had lived a most adventurous lifetime. Indeed, his very birth into the world had been one of extraordinary circumstance and it was very near-miraculous that he existed at all. His father was wounded, in a most horrendous accident, involving a German bayonet, during WW1. Coincidentally, at precisely the same time, his mother was also seriously injured in a house fire, barely escaping with her life. They met at a rehabilitation hospital in England where, as luck would have it, their physiotherapist, was a mutual friend of both.
Once upon a time, lived a very, very old man called Eric, who had lived a most adventurous lifetime. Indeed, his very birth into the world had been one of extraordinary circumstance and it was very near-miraculous that he existed at all. His father was wounded, in a most horrendous accident, involving a German bayonet, during WW1. Coincidentally, at precisely the same ...[text shortened]... ased the wasps, and watched them swarm off in search of Gordon, was one of the happiest of his life.
"Fate seems to have wanted you to meet," he had told them, "I wonder to what end?"
In his, now, squeaky voice, Berty said, " Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're going to get".
As it transpired, fate had decided to give them a son, born into the world at a plump 13 pounds and 3 ounces. - Which was a record weight for the hospital and they, Berty and Gert, decided to call him Harold (who would eventually become Prime Minister of Britain). Of course, young Harold had grown up hating his name and had insisted on being referred to by his middle name, Eric.
Eric’s adventures began almost immediately when, at just 18 months of age Gert sat him on the kitchen draining board whilst she did the ironing. His inquisitive nature led to his attempting to climb down the drain, his podgy fingers getting firmly trapped in the process. (It took 3 firemen and a tub of vaseline to free the young chap). This incident was never quite forgotten, simply because it would soon be followed by similar happenings. In fact, only 6 short months passed before our mischievous adventurer was spotted by terrified onlookers, dangling from a 5th-floor balcony. Losing his grip he started plummeting to a certain death when out of panic he started flapping his arms and low and behold he managed to alight softly to the amazement of the heretofore terrified throng. The fortunate tyke having caught the elastic on his underpants on a washing line near the ground floor flats, slow his descent as he gently touched the floor. Fate it seemed had bigger plans for Eric, plans that really showed their hand on his 6th birthday.
It started like any other day - well, not quite as it was his birthday, but it could have been any other birthday, at least that was what his family planned for. Why Berty decided to buy Eric his first pair of roller skates remains a mystery given that their house was situated at the top of “Hill Street” which had a 1:3 incline, or more important from Eric’s point of view a 1:3 decline. He skated in his back yard, along with his birthday guests, but one by one they left, and while his parents tidied up he left through the side gate. Unlike any 6 year old who had ever existed in the annals of history, Eric was absolutely fearless. He eyed up the slope on the road, remembering it was time of very few automobiles, and, setting his sight on the pond at the very bottom of his hill, he pushed off. Too late he remembered Berty telling him to never go swimming in that same pond because it was purported to be the residence of a 14 foot crocodile and as he had little practice stopping he had to think of a way to do so and very quickly as the pond was fast approaching and a set of eyes was protruding at the water's edge. Fortunately for Eric, the crocodile was the product of a fatherly exaggeration, the eyes belonging to a large warty toad visibly discombobulated by his speedy approach. So discombobulated in fact that the toad was almost transfixed, he just had time to turn around before Eric arrived at the waters edge where the toads slimy back acted as a ramp sending him shooting across and over the pond like an Olympic ski jumper.
Young Eric now viewed himself immortal, a self-belief of invincibility that would serve him well, aged nine, when set upon by the school bully. Gordon, the bully, was unaware of Eric's "powers" and said to him, "Gimme your lunch money or I'll make you eat this", holding out what looked to Eric like dog poo, in a paper bag.
"I'll give you one opportunity to walk away," replied Eric, cooler than a cucumber.
Much to nobody’s surprise the bully did walk away, but not before shoving Eric’s head inside the brown paper bag which did indeed contain a dog poo, Eric washed his face in the now familiar pond and stomped home as menacingly as he could in his third pair of roller skates swearing to the heavens that he would never be bullied again! - Ego bruised, but not broken, Eric invented something that very evening that would change his life forever. In his makeshift laboratory, at the back of his mum's garden shed, he took the little piece of skin, he'd managed to get when he scratched the bully from under his fingernail and placed it on a slide inserting it into his electron microscope to see if he was able to get a good bit of DNA...he had and like the mad scientist he'd hoped to become, he cackled at what he was planning to do next. Over the next 3 months, Eric successfully bred a colony of wasps conditioned to respond unfavourably to Gordon's DNA.
It wasn't long before Eric realised that planning evil things made him truly happy. Indeed, the day he finally released the wasps, and watched them swarm off in search of Gordon, was one of the happiest of his life. It started slowly, with the lead wasp searching out its prey, Gordon swiping at the insect with his cricket bat, knocking the first to the floor, but this angered the remaining swarm.
@executioner-brand saidCan you please just contain yourself and stop trying to spoil threads.
this has to be the worst story I've ever read.
@ghost-of-a-duke saidso I am not allowed to comment on your team joke?
Can you please just contain yourself and stop trying to spoil threads.
but if was to be a liar and praise you you would stroke it.
@executioner-brand saidOh yeah cos that’s how much we value your opinion, but it would be nice if posters didn’t break up the flow of the text, you could start a ‘Grinch’ thread and slag other threads off on there.
so I am not allowed to comment on your team joke?
but if was to be a liar and praise you you would stroke it.
@kevcvs57 saidWell I think you should know it is crap, even if you want me to state the obvious more then once.
Oh yeah cos that’s how much we value your opinion, but it would be nice if posters didn’t break up the flow of the text, you could start a ‘Grinch’ thread and slag other threads off on there.
@executioner-brand saidIf you don't like this thread, then just ignore.
Well I think you should know it is crap, even if you want me to state the obvious more then once.
Once upon a time, lived a very, very old man called Eric, who had lived a most adventurous lifetime. Indeed, his very birth into the world had been one of extraordinary circumstance and it was very near-miraculous that he existed at all. His father was wounded, in a most horrendous accident, involving a German bayonet, during WW1. Coincidentally, at precisely the same time, his mother was also seriously injured in a house fire, barely escaping with her life. They met at a rehabilitation hospital in England where, as luck would have it, their physiotherapist, was a mutual friend of both.
"Fate seems to have wanted you to meet," he had told them, "I wonder to what end?"
In his, now, squeaky voice, Berty said, " Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're going to get".
As it transpired, fate had decided to give them a son, born into the world at a plump 13 pounds and 3 ounces. - Which was a record weight for the hospital and they, Berty and Gert, decided to call him Harold (who would eventually become Prime Minister of Britain). Of course, young Harold had grown up hating his name and had insisted on being referred to by his middle name, Eric.
Eric’s adventures began almost immediately when, at just 18 months of age Gert sat him on the kitchen draining board whilst she did the ironing. His inquisitive nature led to his attempting to climb down the drain, his podgy fingers getting firmly trapped in the process. (It took 3 firemen and a tub of vaseline to free the young chap). This incident was never quite forgotten, simply because it would soon be followed by similar happenings. In fact, only 6 short months passed before our mischievous adventurer was spotted by terrified onlookers, dangling from a 5th-floor balcony. Losing his grip he started plummeting to a certain death when out of panic he started flapping his arms and low and behold he managed to alight softly to the amazement of the heretofore terrified throng. The fortunate tyke having caught the elastic on his underpants on a washing line near the ground floor flats, slow his descent as he gently touched the floor. Fate it seemed had bigger plans for Eric, plans that really showed their hand on his 6th birthday.
It started like any other day - well, not quite as it was his birthday, but it could have been any other birthday, at least that was what his family planned for. Why Berty decided to buy Eric his first pair of roller skates remains a mystery given that their house was situated at the top of “Hill Street” which had a 1:3 incline, or more important from Eric’s point of view a 1:3 decline. He skated in his back yard, along with his birthday guests, but one by one they left, and while his parents tidied up he left through the side gate. Unlike any 6 year old who had ever existed in the annals of history, Eric was absolutely fearless. He eyed up the slope on the road, remembering it was time of very few automobiles, and, setting his sight on the pond at the very bottom of his hill, he pushed off. Too late he remembered Berty telling him to never go swimming in that same pond because it was purported to be the residence of a 14 foot crocodile and as he had little practice stopping he had to think of a way to do so and very quickly as the pond was fast approaching and a set of eyes was protruding at the water's edge. Fortunately for Eric, the crocodile was the product of a fatherly exaggeration, the eyes belonging to a large warty toad visibly discombobulated by his speedy approach. So discombobulated in fact that the toad was almost transfixed, he just had time to turn around before Eric arrived at the waters edge where the toads slimy back acted as a ramp sending him shooting across and over the pond like an Olympic ski jumper.
Young Eric now viewed himself immortal, a self-belief of invincibility that would serve him well, aged nine, when set upon by the school bully. Gordon, the bully, was unaware of Eric's "powers" and said to him, "Gimme your lunch money or I'll make you eat this", holding out what looked to Eric like dog poo, in a paper bag.
"I'll give you one opportunity to walk away," replied Eric, cooler than a cucumber.
Much to nobody’s surprise the bully did walk away, but not before shoving Eric’s head inside the brown paper bag which did indeed contain a dog poo, Eric washed his face in the now familiar pond and stomped home as menacingly as he could in his third pair of roller skates swearing to the heavens that he would never be bullied again! - Ego bruised, but not broken, Eric invented something that very evening that would change his life forever. In his makeshift laboratory, at the back of his mum's garden shed, he took the little piece of skin, he'd managed to get when he scratched the bully from under his fingernail and placed it on a slide inserting it into his electron microscope to see if he was able to get a good bit of DNA...he had and like the mad scientist he'd hoped to become, he cackled at what he was planning to do next. Over the next 3 months, Eric successfully bred a colony of wasps conditioned to respond unfavourably to Gordon's DNA.
It wasn't long before Eric realised that planning evil things made him truly happy. Indeed, the day he finally released the wasps, and watched them swarm off in search of Gordon, was one of the happiest of his life. It started slowly, with the lead wasp searching out its prey, Gordon swiping at the insect with his cricket bat, knocking the first to the floor, but this angered the remaining swarm.
Then like a swarm of, erm, wasps they attacked as one and all that could be seen above the cloud of flying agony was Gordon’s weakly held and wavering cricket bat until that too disappeared beneath the swarm along with his high pitched screams just as his twin sister turned the corner on her way home from her volunteer shift at the orphanage.