Timepiece Tales…take two
Adam Lax returns to give us our second instalment of TP tales.
Timepiece Tales are back. We have PullCam, we have the Science of £10 Night Out, and we have Feeling Good by Being Bad. Now the inquisitive eyes of The Drop return to Little Castle Street and reveal how well your nearest and dearest have been misbehaving since the last installment.
We begin not with a stick and ball sensation, at least not for now, nor a disgraceful deed from any flirtatious fresher. Instead, we have the egg chaser who found The Ledge too tough to handle. Whilst a desirable state of Reef-induced lubrication should never be frowned upon, always be aware if you can’t handle Ledge Patrol and the aftermath of Thursday morning; make sure the antics don’t become a Timepiece Tale…
This discovery follows a more successful and conventional hunt than the misguided young fresher of Episode One, in fact this particular gentleman had been frequenting these hallowed walls for the best part of three years, and should have known so, so much better. Successful chirping, two double vodkas and a burger later, he entered unto the breach, whisking away his fair maiden away from The Ledge, onwards and upwards with the Golden Mile of Longbrook Street in his sights, what could possibly go wrong?
Forward to Thursday morning; the 10am in Peter Chalk was now the last of this man’s worries. Returning late for the Domino’s and FIFA debrief, the egg chaser was silent, white as a sheet, happiness and joy drained from his soul. His ordeal seemed to be forever consigned to the scrapbook of history, weeks upon weeks passed by; the blossoming rose transformed into a shrinking violet, with nobody any the wiser as to how a Wednesday night could become such a tragic disaster.
Over a month later, the housemates were finally sat down. When the events of that Timepiece were eventually granted the light of day, nobody was quite prepared for what was on offer. The conversation went something a little like this:
“Boys, over the last few years I feel as though we have become really good friends, the sort of friends with whom we can share our deepest and darkest secrets. Remember that Wednesday night? I haven’t been the same since; now I think it’s right to tell you exactly what happened”.
“It was a successful chase, of course, and ended rather well, numbers swapped; we were even going to meet up for a drink the next day. The sort of Wednesday most of us can only dream about. I didn’t stay the night though, couldn’t afford to miss that 10am and to be honest she snored like a trooper”.
“I left in the early hours of the morning still absolutely steaming and made my way home. Didn’t quite make it back though. We had a tough game earlier, so in my wisdom, I, erm, decided to take a quick snooze on Queens Crescent half way along the walk back. Hardly ideal.”
“In fairness it was a great night’s sleep, I woke up to the sun shining and the birdsong ringing through the Cider Black bedlam of my insides. I even found a pillow lying on the grass. Until I turned over in the morning, and realised it was dead cat…”
That, boys and girls, is the sort of ‘Pussay Patrol’ none of us want. If you can’t handle The Ledge, make sure your antics don’t become a Timepiece Tale…
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