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I'm Getting Engaged
Okay, so I'm sitting at home and there's a phone call, some guy with a really deep voice who asks if A.C.C is there (it didn't occur to me until just then that he was asking after Arthur C Clarke). I tell him there's no-one here of that name, he gets all blustery and starts saying he's going to come over and rip my ears off ... I give the on-hook switch a tap and say, okay, Telecom can trace this call now, I'm going to find out where YOU are, and he says that's fine, he's coming over anyway, so I hang up, wander down the driveway and find that crowbar. I walk out onto the street - no-one there - but then I see a tiny car coming, something like a mini or a humber or somesuch, it pulls up in my driveway and this guy gets out - he must be twelve feet tall, I mean we're talking rawhead rex here... He advances on me with murderous intent; I take a swipe at him with the crowbar, he pushes me over onto my back and stands on my scrotum; somehow I manage to get my leg far back enough to kick him in the stomach, and everything changes; he's weak, and I can bat him around easily. It's like being in a Popeye cartoon. I bash him around in Toon fashion for a while, knocking him way up into the air; he descends somewhere in the Australian outback (on my way out to the spot where he's going to land, I pass a tollbooth with a Popeye sticker on the window)... He comes down and lands anus-first on a cactus (cactus? here? why not). I kick him around for a few minutes more, and realise that while he's getting smaller, I'm getting bigger... I'm almost twelve feet tall now... there's a telephone booth nearby... I step inside (with difficulty) and dial my home number... |
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