Monday, May 17, 2010

Thing 34 Count to 2,000

See that face up there? That's the face of pure concentration. Focus. Determination. Normally I lack these things. But there's nothing quite like three assholes trying to ruin your day to help you get your mind right. If anyone recalls, I tried the counting to 2,000 Thing before. It was ruined by Token Northy and Pony Boy collaborating against me. Second attempt was in front of the same offensive tools, but now they had The Frenchman with them. Unpleasant trio.

Token Northy's actually become famous for pranks, and general mischief. you'd swear that butter wouldn't melt in his little angelic mouth, but you'd be wrong. He's also got one of those personalities that makes peoples' parents love him. "He's only a lovely fella", they say. Everyone knows someone like him. Your ma and da think he's awesome, and he's super-happy to meet them, but when left to his own devices the scheming Northy will ruin your life.

Pony Boy's got revenge on his mind. So laid-back and unsuspecting is the man, that he leaves his facebook page open in the house, and subsequently gets ruined by me and Token Northy. Revenge he plots in his normally all-too-pleasant head. And let's not forget that he was the one who ruined the last effort.

As for The Frenchman... I really thought better of that guy. He's got a deeply hidden evil-streak that nobody suspects. I wonder does Tiny Fairy know? Honestly, this guy is the last person you'd suspect. He's quiet and shy... but then, it's always the quiet ones isn't it?

Look at them... gangsters...
Pictured: Evil, and possibly French...

Pictured: Revenge Pony
Pictured: Token Bad Guy

The whole point of the counting to 2,000 bit started when I was 19 and working in an un-named grocery store. Half an hour to go in the shift on a Friday night at half nine... Everyone else out having fun, propping up the bar in Claw's or Molly's, and me still at work. It's half nine on a Friday. Who's out shopping on a Friday at half nine? Nobody, that's who...

So, out of boredom and in anticipation of drinking and banter, I'd start quite literally counting the seconds - model employee I know, but in my defence, there was nothing to do. I never got past three minutes. I'd get distracted by something shiny and lose the head. 2,000 - if you leave one second for each number is just over half an hour. So I was determined to get there.

That's when they started. Token Northy started counting backwards from the next decimal up, The Frenchman started asking me questions, leaning in to block my thoughts. Pony Boy started tearing up paper and firing little paper-balls at me. It wasn't working. So they robbed my phone. They began texting everyone in my phone book (apologies if you got one of those texts), until I wrestled it back from The Frenchman passing number 900 or so... Then Token Northy texted as many of my mates on his phone, telling them to ring me. Cue fifty odd phone calls. People shouting down the phone. They dumped sugar into my coffee, tried to do the crossword without me, they did everything they could to stop me...

As I passed 1,990 they clamped their hands over the ears and la-la-la-la-lad all the way up to 2,000. Boo-yah!!

Take that!!!

Me: 1 Evil: 0

In the interests of evil, we tea-bagged The Canuck after he fell asleep on the couch. Not that kind of tea-bagging. With your filthy mind....

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