Wednesday 16th August 2000
Clint and I played a trick on Curly yesterday and I feel we may possibly have gone a bit too far…maybe
I bought this laptop off of Curly for a hundred quid after he said he could get computers from where he works (Dixons) with his staff discount. Curly’s been my constant companion (not in a gay way) for near enough a decade now. He is a tall broom stick of a lad. Big fucking boggly goldfish eyes with mad silly string hair the poor bastard. Most people wouldn’t give him the time of day but Jesus the lad is a hoot. Nothing he says is remotely funny, most of what comes out of his mouth is verbal wank. However the boy is a walking disaster. He is proper You’ve Been Framed gold. If you want a laugh, then Popeye here is your fall guy. Anyway, he brought around this computer to my house and it looked great. Top of the range. It wasn’t in a box but he said it was ex-display, which is why it was so cheap. The problem was that when I logged into the computer I kept noticing the name Erdington Mental Health Care popping up. It didn’t take too long for me to suss that the computer wasn’t brand new like Curly had said it was. The cheeky mop head twat!
Now I’m not fussed that it was nicked, the working classes have gotta make a living I suppose and we all know that minimum wage isn’t going to pay their wife beating lager costs. It is a foregone conclusion that everyone under middle class is on the rob. NO, I was pied off because he took a hundred quid off of me when I could have got a nicked computer off of Honest Bob for a tenner (He’s a noseless smack head who would steal his Moms in use tampon to order…an acquaintance of Moms, not mine). I was going to let it slide, but after telling Clint what had happened, he was adamant that matey should be taught a lesson for be liable with the truth. Clint is renowned (even feared) for his pranks and I must admit that his latest idea sounded quite good so I decide to run with it.
Following Clint’s instructions I called up Curly up just after 10pm and asked him where he got the computer from and he replied all innocently “Dixon’s J, why?”. “That’s alwright then” I answered dead straight “Cos when I hooked the computer up to the internet I got a message flash up asking where I got the system from. I thought it was a registration thing, so I put Dixon’s, your name and your address as reference, since I knew it wudda been on your discount card”. By this point I just heard Curly swearing like Nun getting one up the bum. At the time I was trying not to piss myself laughing because I wanted to sound as convincing as possible; so I continued “Anyway Curls, the message went really weird and said an officer would be visiting within 20 minutes. What does that mean? You work at Dixon’s, you know how this works. Does a sales rep come around to register your software package?” Curly completely ignored the last bit I said and started asking how long ago I got the message. I made the fooker sweat for a bit, saying that I wasn’t sure but then he started going as mad as Miss Piggy finding Kermit being rimmed by Fozzy Bear, so I relented and said I had gotten the message ten minutes ago.
Curly shouted something about only having ten minutes left. I heard him scream for his Mom and then the phone went dead. After that I didn’t think anymore of it, well I did. I went to sleep with a big Cheshire cat grin across my face because I’d got the jizz head back a good’un. What a great start I thought, August 17th was going to be even better though, one of the best days of my life…or so I thought.
Later in the night, well early in the morning actually, a drunken Miller came bouncing over me head at about 4 o’clock and woke me up because he spunked his guts up all over his duvet and pillow AND THEN PASSED OUT HEAD FIRST IN IT! It really stunk badly, like a bowl of sloppy shit in gone off milk. I couldn’t get back to sleep with that wafting in the air so I decided that I was going to kip downstairs on the living room settee.
I get downstairs and I hear noises coming from the back of our conservatory. I grabbed the nearest thing I could arm myself with (the end of the vacuum cleaner) and jumped outside ready to unleash my deadliest movie chops, but it turned out to be Curly.
I asked him what he was doing dozing in the back of our house. He said that he had to fess up, that the computer was nicked and that he was selling it for some geezer his Mom knew (Mom’s aye!). I was just about to laugh and shout ‘Gotcha’ but he continued ‘Our whole house is full of stolen stuff that this ‘friend’ of my Mom’s has been stashing there. After you called I tried to find my Mom but she wasn’t in. The thing is that this bloke Mom knows has been keeping loads of drugs in the house too. There were too many bags of pills and powder and too little time to figure out where to hid’em so I decided to flush the lot down the loo. At that point Mom came back and started screaming hysterically. I tried to explain why I’d done it but she said she’d rather have been arrested compared to what the dealers will do to her. She’s been working for someone she is really scared of but she wouldn’t say who it was! So now Mom has packed hers and Britney’s stuff and she’s is doing a midnight flit back to Ireland as we speak. She told me that I’d better hide too because they would use me to get to her! So please mate, you’ve gotta let me come to Torquay with you…please! We’ve had to leave Grandma behind. She’s probably hanging upside down from her wooly stockings as we speak’
On that note I said okay. What could I say? I couldn’t own up after that, ‘Sorry mate it was all a big joke!’ I’m pretty sure he’ll never ever find out that I was playing a prank on him, so I said he could come with us. Good’ol Curly, a total fuck up as usual.
Who knows, maybe I’ve actually done him a big favour? He’ll come live in Torquay, earn an honest living as my barman and I’ll try to help him out the best I can. Maybe I’ll teach him the ropes and let him run one of the next pubs I’ll get in a year or so time. His Granny was 70; she’s had a good innings.