A dreadful, terrible thing happened...

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It was sunny this morning went I set off to work: the air was fresh, there was dew on the trees and the birds were tweetering away nerrily. I arrived at the station and got on a train without having any sort of wait at all. "What a morning", I was thinking. I had to change at Tottenham Court Road and this is where the day began to darken. I arrived at the platform and felt suddenly uneasy as though there were a malevolent presence. Mindful of the silly but brave heroines in the horror films who go down the cellar steps to investigate midnight thumpings, I hesitated before turning to face whatever was behind me. I was curious and quite frightened as "it" was making strange, wet noises, like an Alastian snoring, and "it" smelt as though it had partaken of some very nasty beer in its lifetime. So, bravely, I turned. What I saw chilled me to marrow. The hairs on the back of my neck rose and I emitted a shriek. There, slumped across four seats, was a simian-looking creature, sleeping but horrific. It had a can of Carling falling out of its deformed hands and was surrounded by a pool of what may have been spilt beer. It was his attire that horrified me most, however. He was wearing a filthy shirt with red and white stripes, with the words, Reg Vardy written across the chest. I was alone on a platform with a sleeping Mackem. Wild thoughts ran through my mind: should I get my lipstick out and wrote "Monkey's Heed" across the domed lump that passed as a forehead? Should I unpeel the banana in my bag and leave it for him? My train came and the horror ended. My day was nonetheless ruined. Of all the Mackems in all the tube stations in all the world, it had to be Tottenham Court when I'd got up to go to work early.

-- Anonymous, August 02, 2000

Answers

Nice one! You could have rolled him onto the track but that would have delayed your journey. "Let sleeping apes lie" as the saying goes.

-- Anonymous, August 02, 2000

a chilling tale well told. reminds me of a chilly early morning last autumn when fellow train passengers looked on aghast at a bunch of english youths apparently sleeping on the floor in a piss stinking corner of Leiden station. looking more dead than alive they were surrounded by empties and joint roaches. A seriously ugly collection of individuals one was wearing his club's shirt. I think you can guess which club.

-- Anonymous, August 02, 2000

Brilliantly written, Dougal! Good thing you didn't contaminate your lipstick, as tempting as it may have been. :-)

-- Anonymous, August 02, 2000

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