I met P3nt for lunch at a bistro on Congress Street. Normally, this would be the part where I'd say "things went well at first". Normally.
But he had no sooner walked in the door than he punched the maitre de, kicked him half a dozen times, and then fished the poor man's wallet out of his pocket. All the other diners and staff just looked at the floor and pretended nothing had happened.
He sat down at the table with me, and lit a large panatella. The staff was obviously not going to tell him that smoking wasn't allowed, and the fumes from his vile cigar quickly filled the room with a greyish-yellow haze. He looked across the table at me and then grunted, which was all the acknowledgement of my existence that I really wanted, to be perfectly honest.
A waiter nervously edged toward the table, to be met by a glare from P3nt.
"Get me a beer, ye cunt, ye. And be quick about it."
"Erm...What brand, sir?"
"Fucking BEER brand, you oik." He punched the man in the balls, and screamed at the bartender to "pick up the slack". The bartender, almost tripping over himself, hurried over with an IPA. P3nt looked at him and then, as if deciding the let the man live, turned to me.
"Now, ye wee bastard, Payne and I have had it up to here with you writing slander about us."
I shit my pants at this point. He continued.
"Payne and I are the kindest, most loving people a turd like you is ever going to meet in this lifetime."
I nodded.
"And if you want that lifetime to be long enough for a meaningful comparison, you'll remember that, right?"
I nodded again. P3nt reached over and grabbed my ham on rye, and took a bite out of it. He stared at it, chewing slowly.
"Not bad." Then he reached over and shoved it in my shirt pocket. "Are we clear?"
I nodded again.
"I can't HEAR you. I said, ARE. WE. CLEAR?"
"yesssss"
He stood up and walked out, bottling the maitre de, who was just getting up.
I shat myself again.
:lulz:
Fuckin' YEAH.
P3nt kayaked there, right through the desert, and punched a cactus for looking at him funny on the way back.
It occurred to me that when you're feeling down or on the outs, the best thing to do is fuck with a Scotsman.
It won't solve your problems, but you won't be in a position to care.
In my defense, I'd just gotten off the plane, walked into a burger joint and been handed 18kilos of cholesterol-based attempted manslaughter, in response to my request for sustenance while my pimply-faced would be assassin told me to "have a nice day".
I WAS FEELING A BIT VULNERABLE :argh!:
I read this before going to sleep. Later, against my loud protestations, Roger wound up cutting his own head open to see what was in the box.
Quote from: Q. G. Pennyworth on September 11, 2014, 01:33:39 AM
I read this before going to sleep. Later, against my loud protestations, Roger wound up cutting his own head open to see what was in the box.
I have a habit of that.
If this encounter had been made into a short film, it would have gotten awards. Not the good kind, but awards nonetheless.
Imagine getting a Roger. Imagine the acceptance speech and the silent horror in the faces of the audience.
Quote from: Allfader Waffles on September 11, 2014, 08:46:12 AM
If this encounter had been made into a short film, it would have gotten awards. Not the good kind, but awards nonetheless.
Imagine getting a Roger. Imagine the acceptance speech and the silent horror in the faces of the audience.
:lulz:
"And then, to get P3nt's motivation, we dipped him in crystal meth and handed him to a Canadian hockey team for 3 days..."
I received the phone call at 3:38 in the morning on Saturday night. I had thought that P3nT was going to hit up Arizona and then either spontaneously combust upon his first exposure to direct sunlight, or fuck off back to Scotland. Apparently he had some business to attend to in New York City, and I was the closest person contractually obligated* to meet him. The person who called me had the distinct sound of a person using one of the last working phone booths in America, without pants. In between the sobs and gibbering, I made out that I was supposed to meet P3nT at a fancy joint in Downtown Manhattan that evening.
P3nT arrived in a speeding taxi, whose driver screeched to a burning rubber halt on the sidewalk about three paces away from where I was standing. Looking carefully, I could see that the driver had recently either vomited or been vomited upon.
P3nT crawled out of the backseat, and somehow pulled a full-sized ocean kayak out of the back seat after him. He checked his pockets, and after swearing vehemently enough to frighten nearby pedestrians, said something like "Oy cockshit, forgot me facking wallet. 'Ere, take onna these..." Whereupon he reached his fingers back into his mouth, extracted a gold tooth and tossed it into the stunned driver's lap.
He greeted me with a friendly punch in the gut and dragged me by the belt into the restaurant, leaving his kayak with a homeless man who was too terrified to do anything but clutch the thing like it was his hold on life itself. I blacked out.
When I came to, P3nT had eaten the meals that he had apparently ordered for both of us. I could see in the mirror on the wall behind him that he had drawn at least seven penises on my face in permanent marker.
I could tell that I'd shat myself while I was out.
After downing what appeared to be his twelfth beer and chucking the glass at the weeping manager, he leaned in and spoke as if continuing a conversation that had been going on for quite a while:
"Right, one more thing 'fore I fuck offa this pissing waste of a country. I 'ad a fucking great time with this bloke an' his wife down in Noo Zeeland just the other day, see? And 'ey got somethin' going there that I think would be bloody PERFECT for the rest of us. Let me tell you about Miguel..."
I passed out again.
:lulz:
I am both enraged and amused at the non-existent footnote.
Quote from: LMNO, PhD (life continues) on September 12, 2014, 01:16:40 AM
I am both enraged and amused at the non-existent footnote.
Oops :lulz: It was there, but I cut it because I felt having that extra bit at the bottom kinda dragged out the ending, but forgot to delete the asterisk.
I think it shall remain this way. You can add in your own footnotes as you see fit.
Not that the story itself wasn't great (which it was) but the asterisk was the icing on the cake! :lulz: