The Adventures of the Sherlock Holmes Club: The Case of the Missing Mysteries (908 hits)
Category: Quotes & StoriesLabels: SherlockHolmesClub
Rating: 1.96 on 41 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Thorpe (View user info) at 2007-03-15 02:06:11 EDT
The Case of the Elusive Headquarters: http://www.ubersite.com/m/99272
The first official meeting to be held in the new Sherlock Holmes Club Headquarters took place on a summer afternoon a few days after the headquarters' official opening. A decoy meeting had taken place earlier that morning, dutifully attended by all four members, who had conducted it in loud shouts that echoed across the neighbourhood before becoming bored with the deceit and adjourning to go and swing on the Shaws' Hills Hoist. Now that any unwanted attention had been warded off, the four convened again, this time without proclaiming their intentions to the empty street as they made their way over to Thorpe's backyard shed. As they filed down the side of the house they reflected on the important nature of the business at hand; they were about to establish the ranks, codenames and, most importantly, the Constitution of the Sherlock Holmes Club.
"Okay, is everybody here?" Thorpe asked under his breath, as they entered the shed and he prepared to shut the door.
There was a pause as all four of them mentally counted the four people present.
"Yes," came the replies.
"Good. This meeting of the Sherlock Holmes Club has now officially started."
He closed the door and plunged the shed into darkness.
"The first thing we have to do... where's my chair?"
"It's over here." Daniel was seated in an identical chair, a comfortable fold-out director's chair which sat at the head of the room, one of them on each side of the portable blackboard they had set up. Tim and Scott were considerably closer to the ground, perched uncomfortably on wooden carpentry 'horses' in the middle of the floor. The back of the shed was taken up by the lawnmower and other assorted tools, and also a wooden school desk, on which Thorpe had placed his deerstalker hat, a magnifying glass and writing material.
"Found it". Thorpe made his way back to his chair and sat down.
"The first thing we have to do is make our Constitution. It's a set of rules that all of us have to follow, or else we have to die."
There was a silent chorus of nodding, before a look of concern started growing across Daniel's face, which they would have seen if it wasn't pitch black.
"Wait - do we really want to make it that we die?" he asked. "I mean, what if we break one of the rules by accident?"
"That's why we have to learn them really well now in our first meeting" explained Thorpe.
"Maybe we could have it so that if you break one of the rules in this first meeting, you don't get killed!" proposed Tim.
"Good idea, does everyone agree?" asked Daniel.
They all nodded emphatically.
"Okay, so that's the first rule. Thorpe, write that down."
RULE 1: YOU DONE'T DIE IF YOU BRAEK THE RULES IN THE 1ST MEETING
Scott opened the door so that they could admire their scribe's handiwork.
"Can't you write smaller?"
They all looked at rule 1, which took up half the blackboard.
"I'll just write the next one smaller," decided Thorpe.
Scott closed the door and sat back down again, and once more the shed descended into blackness.
"Now what should rule 2 be..."
"Who will kill the person?" piped up Tim.
"What?"
"If someone breaks a rule after the first meeting, who will kill the person that broke the rule?"
"Can I do it?" asked Scott hopefully.
"Nobody kills him, that person kills himself!" said Thorpe indignantly. "We're all going to swear an oath to obey the Constitution or else we have to kill ourselves!"
"I'm not killing myself," declared Daniel.
"Don't worry, I can kill you if you can't do it," said Tim, eyeing the cricket stumps in the corner.
"Let's just all follow the rules so we don't have to kill ourselves," said Thorpe, running a hand down his face.
"I think we should make it so that we have a week before we have to die if we break a rule," said Daniel. "Who agrees?"
Everyone nodded their head.
"Okay, write it on the board."
RULE 2: YOU DON'T DIE IF YOU BRAEK THE RULES IN ACTUALLY THE 1ST WEEK
"Open the door."
"You should have just crossed out 'meeting' and put 'week'," said Tim critically.
"I couldn't see what rule 1 was because it was too dark, and then it was too late" shot back Thorpe.
"How much board have we got left?" enquired Daniel.
"About a quarter. I think we can only have two more rules."
Scott closed the door and they sat back in darkness again.
"What should rule 3 be..."
After a while, it was Scott that came through.
"No fighting any other member of the Sherlock Holmes Club!"
"Good one!"
"Just put 'No fighting' so it fits," said Daniel, as the door was opened once again.
"It's too late."
RULE 3: NO FITING ANY OT
"One more rule... what is really, really important?"
"No stealing from any other members of the Sherlock Holmes Club!" said Scott.
"Yeah that's a good one, but there's no room..."
"No pushing any other members of the Sherlock Holmes Club out of the bath!"
"You can't just use the Sherlock Holmes Club to protect yourself from me!" yelled Tim as it dawned on him.
"Ha! If you punch me, you have to kill yourself!"
"Not for a week I don't!" Tim landed one on Scott's arm, knocking him off his seat.
"Hey! Stop fighting, it's still a rule!" Thorpe helped Scott back up. "Now, we need a rule 4."
"We have to keep the Sherlock Holmes Club secret from everyone else at all times." Daniel spoke slowly and deliberately.
RULE 4: SECRESy is toppryort
They opened the door and looked at the Constitution proudly.
"Now where should we put it?" pondered Thorpe.
"We have to make sure that no-one else can read it," Daniel reminded everyone.
"Well let's put it in code."
"It doesn't matter, it's so dark in here no-one will be able to read it anyway," Tim pointed out.
"Right. Now, do what I do," said Thorpe.
He placed his hand on his heart.
"Say after me: I swear to follow the Constitution of the Sherlock Holmes Club..." - he thought for a second as an idea hit him - "Brisbane division, and to help it reach its goals in any way I can."
They repeated this as best as possible.
"And if I don't I will KILL MYSELF and leave all my stuff to the Sherlock Holmes Club."
And it was done.
"Now, I'm going to assign us all different codenames," said Thorpe, standing up and pacing the floor.
"Why are you assigning the codenames? We haven't voted for a leader yet!" Daniel cut in.
"Because I've already got codenames decided!"
The two boys tried to stare each other down, which is hard to do in a shed where you can't really see each other.
"Now, I, as always, will be known as M134," Thorpe continued.
"I thought it was M143," said Tim.
They pondered this.
"No, I'm pretty sure it's M134. If I can find the nametag I know it's on there. Anyway," - Thorpe handed Tim a small slip of paper - "you will be known as Mister X."
"Cool!"
"Scott, your codename is..." - he shuffled through the slips of paper - "John Doe."
Scott's excited look vanished.
"Can I have a different one? I was hoping I'd get a good one."
"What's wrong with John Doe?"
"It's not cool enough."
"Okay fine, if you can think of a better one you can use that."
Scott thought for a moment.
"Horse!"
"What?"
"Horse!"
"You can't be called Horse!"
"Why not? I want to be called Horse!"
"Fine! We'll have M143, Mister X, and Horse. Great."
Thorpe took a deep breath before moving on to Daniel.
"Daniel..." - he shuffled through the slips - "this is your codename."
The slip of paper read: * . l> M.
"What?"
"That's your codename".
Not a flicker of sadism crossed Thorpe's face.
"How do you even pronounce that?!"
"Like it's written."
...
"Star dot triangle M."
"I want a better codename!" Daniel exploded.
"Well if you get elected leader, you can change it!"
Thorpe had been planning his ascension to the leadership of the Sherlock Holmes Club almost since its inception. Unbeknownst to the other, he had secretly inducted his mum and dad into the club, to be called in for potentially crucial ballots. He had also had words with the Shaw boys, who had assured him that he had their full support.
Daniel was making no secret of the fact that he intended to run for the leadership. 'We both started the club,' he had said, 'and just because the meetings are in his shed doesn't make him the leader.'
Oh yes it does Thorpe had thought, but had outwardly maintained a good-natured sense of competition in the days leading up to the meeting.
"Okay, so we all have our codenames. From now on we have to use only our codenames when we speak to each other."
"Or else we'll die" chipped in Tim.
"What? No! Actually, maybe. I'll think about that. First we have to elect a leader."
Daniel stood up.
"I'll stand for leader!"
"Sit down! We're not doing that bit yet!" screamed Thorpe.
He took a moment to compose himself.
"One of these chairs is going to be for the leader of the Sherlock Holmes Club."
He picked up a nikko from the schooldesk, walked over to his chair, and scrawled 'sHERLocK HOLmES' on each of its armrests, then once again on the back, and then on the seat for good measure.
"Does your mum know you're writing on these?"
"No, but she said we could use them" replied Thorpe, moving on to the second chair and similarly defacing it, this time with 'Dr. wATsoN'.
"This second chair will be for the deputy leader. What we're going to do is give a piece of paper to everyone, and you write down who should be the leader, and then pass it up here and we'll count how many votes we have."
The paper was passed out, and the four of them wrote their choices, the occasional tongue stuck out the side of their mouths. Then the slips were passed back to the front, and they crowded around as Daniel tallied the results on the other side of the blackboard.
...
"Open the door."
"That's 1 vote for Thorpe... 1 vote for Daniel..."
That was to be expected, Thorpe told himself.
"... 1 vote for Tim... and 1 vote for Scott."
Silence.
"Wait, I get to be Sherlock Holmes because I stood for the leadership first!" yelled Daniel.
"That's not fair!"
"It's not true either!" yelled Thorpe. "I've seen this on TV. What happens now is we put our hands up to vote instead of writing it down. That way everyone gets to see how everyone else votes."
He glared pointedly at the Shaws.
"OK, who votes for me?"
Thorpe and Scott raised their hands.
"And who votes for me?" yelled Daniel, sensing weakness.
He and Tim raised their hands.
"It's a tie!"
"What? You said you'd vote for me!" yelled Thorpe.
"Well I was looking at you both now," explained Tim apologetically, "and he's just a little bit taller."
"That's unfair!"
"It's a tie, so we have to flip a coin!" grinned Daniel.
"No wait - there's still two members of the Sherlock Holmes Club who haven't voted yet!" remembered Thorpe triumphantly.
"Who?"
"Mum and Dad!"
"They can't be members!"
"They're already members! I made them members yesterday!"
"That's unfair!"
Thorpe laughed and ran out of the shed. He headed up the back steps and inside the house, where he found his mum at the kitchen table doing bills.
"Mum, can you come and vote for me in the Sherlock Holmes Club?"
"Oh, can it wait, Thorpe? I'm pretty busy at the moment."
"I just need you to vote to make me Sherlock Holmes instead of Daniel. He can still be Dr. Watson."
"Well, I vote that you share being Sherlock Holmes. That's one vote for sharing."
"What? Where's Dad?"
"He's at work. He votes for sharing too."
Thorpe went back outside, steeling himself for the inevitable coin-toss. As he walked in through the door though, Daniel was sitting in the Sherlock Holmes seat.
"Scott changed his vote," he explained, and then looked genuinely apologetic. "Sorry."
Scott looked sympathetically at Thorpe. "He really is taller."
Thorpe flopped down into the Dr. Watson chair, silently admitting defeat.
"Okay, I've got an idea," said Daniel. "We'll toss a coin once. Whoever wins the coin toss gets to decide whether or not to keep things as they are, or swap places."
Thorpe nodded gloomily. Of course he'd have to keep things as they were - Daniel had outmanoeuvred him fair and square.
"Heads" he called.
The coin was tossed, hit the tin roof, then came down onto the concrete with a dull clink.
"Tails," said Thorpe, his hopes lifting a little.
"Awesome! I'm going to stay Sherlock Holmes!" said Daniel.
"You can't do that! I was going to keep it the same!"
"Well it is the same! You got what you wanted! I'm Sherlock Holmes, you're Dr. Watson and you have to obey me or else I'll kill you! Right! First thing I'm going to do is change my codename! I'm now 'SH86'!"
"What does SH stand for?" asked Scott.
"Shit head," said Thorpe. They all gasped.
"No it doesn't it stands for Sherlock Holmes!" yelled Daniel. "So, what do we do now?"
"Well, you're the leader. You decide."
Daniel thought about this.
"Okay, how about if you have to do the actual leading, but I still get to be Sherlock Holmes?"
Thorpe took to this idea enthusiastically, and it would prove to be the benchmark of their professional relationship for years to come.
"I had a great idea today," he said, standing up in assumption of his new role.
"Every time we leave these headquarters we are going to put a hair across the door, like this."
He walked over to the door, pushed it ajar, pulled a hair from his head and rested it lightly on the bolt mechanism on the outside.
"That way if someone else has opened the door, we'll see the hair is missing and know they were here."
There was a chorus of appreciative ums and ahs.
"I also had another great idea."
He picked up a small black notebook from the desk, and held it up in front of him.
"This will be one of our most important mystery-solving tools," he explained. "Inside this notebook is the Suspicion Page."
Indeed, the words Suspicoun Page adorned the top of the first page inside.
"I'll pass it around now, and it will always be in this shed for when you see something suspicious."
The notebook was passed around the shed, with a noticeable pause, so that when it was returned it now contained its first entry: 'Thorpe wearing suspicous looking hat'.
He placed it back on the desk and returned to his seat.
"Now, we're ready to solve mysteries."
They all leaned forward intently.
There passed about ten seconds of silence.
"Does anybody know any good mysteries we could solve?"
More silence.
"I could go ask my mum," said Tim.
"No, it's a secret club! Secrecy is top priority!" said Daniel.
"So how are we going to find mysteries then? Nobody knows we're here!"
They silently digested the paradox of being a secret club that needed to promote itself.
"We need to advertise," remarked Thorpe, "but somehow keep it secret."
"Wait!"
Scott shot out an arm. They all froze.
"No sorry I thought someone was knocking. I thought they might have had a mystery."
The four of them visibly deflated. A shortage of mysteries to solve in suburban south Brisbane had always been a problem that none of them were willing to admit to out loud. In Enid Blyton's stories, thought Thorpe, the kids would simply go on a holiday, or explore a cave, or have a delicious feast, and a mystery would present itself in the form of surprisingly clean-mouthed thieves or smugglers, none of whom ever seemed to be sexual predators, which was quite fortunate.
In real life, it didn't seem to be that easy.
"Wait a second..." Daniel thought out loud.
"If we do put up some posters, and make sure they are back down within a week, we don't have to kill ourselves."
"Of course! So we'll make some posters, but take them down within a week!"
"Excuse me."
The Shaw boys had been sitting quietly for a while.
"Can we go? We're bored" said Tim.
"Oh. Okay. I'll tell you when the next meeting is later," said Thorpe. "And remember to replace the hair when you leave."
They left the shed, and soon the sound of them swinging on the Hills Hoist could be heard from across the street.
Thorpe and Daniel, meanwhile, got to work on the poster.
* * *
So it was that Thorpe found himself at his Dad's work the next day, clutching a green sheet of A4 paper; catchy, illustrated and ready for photocopying.
"THE SHERLOCK HOLMES CLUB!" it read.
"Have you been murderd? The Sherlock Holmes Club will solve your mystery!
Adults mysteries $5. Kids mysteries $1!"
This was followed by a caricature of Sherlock Holmes himself, with an awkward looking speech bubble emerging from his mouth into which was crammed the phrase "Elementary, my Dr. Watson!"
Sick of waiting for his dad to finish talking to some guy in a suit - they'd been talking for over five minutes - Thorpe decided to photocopy the poster himself. It didn't look hard, he'd seen someone do it before; all you did was put the picture in the top, type in how many copies you wanted, and hit the big green button.
He dragged a chair over to the photocopier and stepped up on to it. The poster was safely face down under the lid, and the paper was full.
4 copies should do it, he thought to himself. After all, he needed them all down in a week or he had to kill himself.
He looked at the keypad, typed in 1 2 3 4 and hit the big green button.
* * *
Needless to say, when Thorpe returned home that afternoon, he had a considerable amount of club literature to deposit in the shed. As he carried his first load down there, he noticed something that immediately took his mind off angry parents.
The hair was gone.
Someone had broken into the Sherlock Holmes Club Headquarters while he was away! He couldn't believe it!
Well, now they had a fight on their hands. And whoever it was wouldn't be getting away with it, that was for sure.
The Sherlock Holmes Club was on the case.
STAY TUNED NEXT WEEK FOR: THE CASE OF THE GOLDEN TROPHY!
User Reviews
Submitted by scourge (user info) at 2007-07-06 17:32:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
AND
In Enid Blyton's stories, thought Thorpe, the kids would simply go on a holiday, or explore a cave, or have a delicious feast, and a mystery would present itself in the form of surprisingly clean-mouthed thieves or smugglers, none of whom ever seemed to be sexual predators, which was quite fortunate.
Submitted by scourge (user info) at 2007-07-06 17:31:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
"Well, I vote that you share being Sherlock Holmes. That's one vote for sharing."
"What? Where's Dad?"
"He's at work. He votes for sharing too."
Submitted by thorpe (user info) at 2007-07-05 10:12:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
In the next couple of days.
Spread the word!
Submitted by thorpe (user info) at 2007-06-17 01:31:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
The Case of the Golden Trophy is coming sometime next week.
Submitted by Crystle (user info) at 2007-04-25 12:12:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
almost peanut butter, and Asterix rocks
Submitted by thorpe (user info) at 2007-03-21 00:15:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Circe (user info) at 2007-03-21 12:51:12 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
These are really, really brilliant.
My sister's still crushing on you.
-------------------------
That's better.
Submitted by Circe (user info) at 2007-03-20 22:51:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
These are really, really brilliant.
My sister's still crushing on you.
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2007-03-16 13:50:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Awesome series - thanks for trying to take back Ubersite.
Submitted by apollo88 (user info) at 2007-03-16 12:58:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
way to ruin it with your comment below.
i thought young children really were witty and erudite.
At least your conception of erudition.
In other news - these are brilliant.
In other other news - England have collapsed against New Zealand.
Is anyone surprised?
Submitted by ghola (user info) at 2007-03-16 12:49:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by simple_catalyst (user info) at 2007-03-16 12:38:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
i read this yesterday, but i forgot to rank. i think.
posh.
Submitted by DCWoody (user info) at 2007-03-16 12:04:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
:)
Submitted by odin (user info) at 2007-03-16 09:11:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by TheUniter (user info) at 2007-03-15 22:48:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by WookieSuave (user info) at 2007-03-15 18:34:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
When I turned 20 I started the "Don't advance your life in any direction" club.
Submitted by Amontillado (user info) at 2007-03-15 12:41:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by paul_anthony (user info) at 2007-03-15 11:37:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by c1ndy (user info) at 2007-03-15 11:16:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by tiaprae (user info) at 2007-03-15 11:15:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2007-03-15 10:53:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This is one of my favorite serieseses. I laughed many times throughout both exciting installments.
Submitted by Orgasmatron (user info) at 2007-03-15 10:11:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by JoeyG (user info) at 2007-03-15 07:04:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This reminds me of my childhood days.
Good stuff.
Submitted by thorpe (user info) at 2007-03-15 09:11:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by CookieLass (user info) at 2007-03-15 23:08:31 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I'm glad you did another one
-------------------
I should have enough material for about three more, actual cases now, because I showed these to 'Daniel' and he reminded me of a whole bunch of other stuff we did that I'd forgotten about.
All the dialogue in these, and thus 95% of the humour, is completely fiction, but all the situations are real.
Submitted by CookieLass (user info) at 2007-03-15 09:08:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I'm glad you did another one
Submitted by CaptainThorns (user info) at 2007-03-15 09:03:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by lungfish (user info) at 2007-03-15 08:51:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No time to read now. Will do so this evening.
I couldn't have you think I was ignoring you, now, could I?
Submitted by phuzzygish (user info) at 2007-03-15 08:26:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by thorpe (user info) at 2007-03-15 07:00:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
http://news.bbc.co.uk/media/images/38670000/jpg/_38670701_auswin3x2_get.jpg
STUFF YOU CLOWNS.
Submitted by phuzzygish (user info) at 2007-03-15 08:24:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by thorpe (user info) at 2007-03-15 06:58:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by phuzzygish (user info) at 2007-03-15 20:34:53 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Ponting appears to be a threat to our campaign to take away your trophy.
--------------------
It goes in cycles I suppose. Sometimes several players hit a form slump all at once - essentially it was just a matter of waiting til those few players hit form again.
Looks like it's happened just in time.
By the way, I have a poster of the '99 semi-final on my wall, the picture is taken right after Allan Donald was run out and has thrown his bat.
-----
Stupid fuck that he is. He didn't even throw his bat. He crapped himself, dropped it, and got run out...
Submitted by manic_impressive (user info) at 2007-03-15 08:05:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
5000 Jews didnt go to work on the day of the Cronulla riots.
Conspiracy anyone?
Submitted by sicosemen (user info) at 2007-03-15 07:19:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
WTF, I'm not reading all of that.
-1 Secrecy.
Submitted by CHR15 (user info) at 2007-03-15 07:18:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I'm going to ask this on behalf of everyone because I think they all want to know but are too shy to ask: How can we join your awesome club??
Submitted by JoeyG (user info) at 2007-03-15 07:04:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This reminds me of my childhood days.
Good stuff.
Submitted by thorpe (user info) at 2007-03-15 07:00:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
http://news.bbc.co.uk/media/images/38670000/jpg/_38670701_auswin3x2_get.jpg
Submitted by thorpe (user info) at 2007-03-15 06:58:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by phuzzygish (user info) at 2007-03-15 20:34:53 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Ponting appears to be a threat to our campaign to take away your trophy.
--------------------
It goes in cycles I suppose. Sometimes several players hit a form slump all at once - essentially it was just a matter of waiting til those few players hit form again.
Looks like it's happened just in time.
By the way, I have a poster of the '99 semi-final on my wall, the picture is taken right after Allan Donald was run out and has thrown his bat.
Submitted by phuzzygish (user info) at 2007-03-15 06:34:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Ponting appears to be a threat to our campaign to take away your trophy.
Submitted by professorfuckface (user info) at 2007-03-15 06:26:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
carlton draught is better than extra dry you just need to give it a chance
Submitted by rorrim (user info) at 2007-03-15 06:19:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Long, but ok.
Submitted by DrogoRoch (user info) at 2007-03-15 04:36:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Bloody good Thorpe. Shall sit on tenter Hooks, or whatever they are, for the next episode. Actually I will probably just carry on living in my normal way until the next episode; I don't want to appear like an internet looser or anything.
Submitted by Ducky (user info) at 2007-03-15 04:30:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by thorpe (user info) at 2007-03-15 03:56:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I'm going to +2 this because I can't feel pissed off at the lack of reviews I'm getting if there's something with no reviews underneath it.
________________________
Aw.
Submitted by Danger_Ranger (user info) at 2007-03-15 03:25:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
When I was a little kid my brother, six years my senior, rode his new yellow bike down our drive, into the garage and straight through the fibro wall at the back. I ran down the driveway to see if he was okay and lost my footing on the 30 degree gradient, tripped and grazed my chin, knees, and the palms of both hands.
By the time my mum had rushed downstairs and crossed the lawn to see what had caused all the commotion, and had found her brave little soldier lying in a 2 inch deep pool of his own blood halfway up the drive, my brother had already plonked the tupperware colander we used as a helmet on my head, and when Mum asked what had happened, he told her *I'd* done it.
"Danger rode my new bike right through the garage Mum, and I mean *right* through it."
"Danger!!" she cried, in that how-could-you tone. I couldn't respond, I was sucking snot back up into my nose with the professional gravity defying grace of a three year old, the tears still tracked down my dirt-caked face, and all I could manage was a pathetic and feeble little whine as I rocked back and forth in an upright foetal postion, hoping the air would go away forever and the stinging with it.
"What's he doing up here on the drive?" My mother asked, reaching down and pushing the curls back from my forehead.
"He was running away.." my brother replied, "guilt I guess."
"Oh Danger, why would you do such a thing? You could have killed yourself.."
"Look at him Mum, he's dressed like Batman - what a moron."
Even though my parents were grateful I was still alive, Dad still punished me for being stupid, and confiscated all my lego for a week. I never drove through the garage wall again.
Submitted by thorpe (user info) at 2007-03-15 02:42:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Zebra = Apollo of course
Submitted by thorpe (user info) at 2007-03-15 02:20:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
WTF I'M NOT WRITING ALL THAT