Posted by
Sul, 10:17, 16th July 2003:
I wrote a short story to a mate this morning out of boredom. Figured Id let you guys read it too. Sorry if it doesnt make sense. I was doing it in between calls and didnt proof read:
Once upon a time, which was where all the great things happened, there was a girl. She had hypnotic eyes, like the snake out of the jungle book, and long flowing hair, like cousin it from the Adams family but much more attractive. This girls name was Natasha. Not the most original of names for a story but there you go. Natasha lived in a large woods with her parents. They had a lovely house with running water and electricity and sky digital and everything. They were a family that could want for little more. They would often sit round the glowing phosphor rays excreted by the TV and ponder over how they thought they got on as a family so well. That is until during one of these phosphor tanning sessions there was a horrible sound, "You think you're invincible!", came a cry from across the room. It was Natasha's mother screaming at her at the top of her lungs. "You have no respect for anyone but yourself!". Natasha was stunned, what had she done to deserve such an outburst?. "What the fuck are you on about you stupid bitch?" replied Natasha at a volume comparable to her mothers. "You have no respect for anyone!", Natasha, mother repeated a little more slowly, just in case Natasha couldn't quite understand her in her supersonic pitch. "You know what, mother?" Natasha mused, "I cant stand you!". " Well I cant stand you some of the time" came the reply. "But I cant stand you all the time". Natasha screamed in order to drive her point home. It was at this point that they parted company. Natasha stormed out the front door of the house and got into her car, while her mother went into the kitchen.
Natasha, sat in her car for while, going over the last couple of minutes events. What had gotten into her mother? Had she gone mental? Was she on drugs? Was she allergic to the fish they ate for dinner? It just didn't make sense. Natasha was determined to find out the cause of her mothers outbursts so she got out the yellow pages and looked for someone that may be able to find an answer. Flicking through the S's she came across something that may just provide the answer she was looking for. "Sul - Private Investigator - Think magnum without the moustache". It seemed perfect. Natasha pulled out her mobile phone and dialled the number listed. 0800 SUL 3142
(ed - get the joke there? 3142? 3.142? PI? Never Mind)
The next day at 9 AM, Natasha was entering an old building on the other side of the woods. On the 3rd floor she approached a door marked "Sul - PI". This appeared to be the right place, she opened the door confidently. There sat behind a desk, smoking and supping back whisky was Sul. He was a tall dark man, well dressed and refined.
"How may I help ya, Darling?", said Sul, seemingly disinterested. "I'm Natasha. We spoke yesterday on the telephone". "Ah yes, the crazy mother", chuckled Sul, "you have no idea how many of my cases are all all about crazy mothers/crazy mother fuckers etc.". "I don't much care about all that" spitted Natasha, her confidence of finding an answer through this buffoon slowly dwindling. "Well I tell you what, Natasha, I already have your answer." Natasha's eyes lit up, "already?" she beamed. "Yup, I followed your mother last night. She went shopping.", Sul started explaining, "She went shopping for shoes!".
"Shoe's huh?" said Natasha, grabbing her purse and heading to the door, "well thanks for nothing you fucking idiot".
"Wait, you don't understand", said Sul, "Let me continue". "Its a well known fact that only one particular type of person buys so many shoes. Witches."
"Witches?", Natasha repeated? "Witches, that fly on broomsticks witches? Are you mad?"
"No, think about it. What could necessitate so many shoes? Landing on a broomstick that's what! When you land your soles take a hell of a beating!"
Natasha mulled this over. It all made sense now. The violent outburst, the amount of shoes her mother owned? The fact that she cooked in a massive cauldron and wore a big pointy hat and cloak. It made so much sense. Natasha thanked Sul for his time and moved on home.
When Natasha got home she found her mother in the garden doing her normal Sunday routine. Pulling out newts eyes and placing them in a big jar. "Hey mum, " Natasha started, "I know your witch and I wanted to say that I'm ok with that. Just try to curve you cackling a little and if you can, try not to shout at me so much."
Natasha's mother looked pleased her daughter knew the truth. "I'm glad you found out Natasha, but you see, that's not the whole story."
"No", asked Natasha, inquisitively
"No", replied her mother "for you're a witch too!"
Posted by
chandler, 10:25, 16th July 2003:
nice,
not sure about the end
love the PI gag. :D
and the "She had hypnotic eyes..." description at the start. that's great!
excellent :D
Posted by
Rosie, 10:26, 16th July 2003:
can we have a Part II pls Sul?
I'm so flippin' bored today...
Posted by
jlittle, 10:36, 16th July 2003:
Yeah - I liked it - I want a part 2 aswell!
www.iamcal.com/topic.php?id=2692&highlig...
Bah! I did the Magnum PI /3.142 joke first (sort of) :(
Posted by
chandler, 10:36, 16th July 2003:
ok well well done ap. :)
and bad sul for stealing it
hee hee.
Like the story though, Sul!
Good work sul
and stop trying to steal his glory AP.
he stole my joke though
/hides
Posted by
Sul, 10:40, 16th July 2003:
subconscious plagiarism - sorry dude :(
"They had a lovely house with running water and electricity and sky digital and everything"
I love this line :D
Posted by
Rosie, 10:52, 16th July 2003:
In your next story sul can you work my cat pig into the plot somehow?
Posted by
chandler, 10:57, 16th July 2003:
catpig?
like catdog?
Posted by
Rosie, 11:00, 16th July 2003:
No! My cats name is Pig.
Spooky, i have a Vietnamese pot bellied pig called Mei Ling.
Posted by
Rosie, 11:12, 16th July 2003:
Really?!
Posted by
jlittle, 11:51, 16th July 2003:
haha
Posted by
Rosie, 11:57, 16th July 2003:
Oh!
:D
When I was younger I used to work at Thorpe Park and there was Pot Bellied Pigs there. They stink of s*it and are well ugly. They used to poo EVERYWHERE.
Posted by
cal, 12:14, 16th July 2003:
the story is GENIUS
Posted by
Sul, 12:27, 16th July 2003:
part 2 - nowhere near as good as part 1
Natasha was sitting in her bedroom looking out of her window into the woods. She had been there for a while now. Thinking, just blindly looking into the woods and thinking. You see, Natasha found out a couple of days ago that she was a witch. This came as a shock to her. She went through all the usual motions, denial, frustration, anger, sadness, When Harry Met Sally, ice cream, and finally acceptance. While looking out of the window she was deciding what her next step would be. Its all well and good knowing you're a witch but what good is it if you don't know how to harness your witchy goodness and put spells on people? Then, an idea hit her, an hour later and one trip to HMV, Natasha was sitting in front of the TV watching the entire first 3 seasons of Sabrina the Teenage Witch.
After watching all the mind-numbing puerile American teenage comedy Natasha had come up with a to-do list:
1. Get cat
2. Get nemesis
3. Get obnoxious aunts or equivalent
4. Learn magic
5. Get into all sorts of trouble using magic.
6. Act like a complete pratt for sake of a measly Nickelodeon salary probably binding me to do crap shows years after Clarissa.
7. Kill self
"What the fuck's the point if I'm just gonna end up like that little magical shithead?", Natasha thought to herself annoyed. Just as she was tearing up the to-do list a sound caught her ear, "I am the sun..." it sang. It was the haunting sound of the Smiths. How could she have forgotten? The coolest witches on TV, The Charmed Ones.
After watching 2 back to back episode of Charmed Natasha had it all figured out. She went downstairs to confront her mother.
"Mum?" she enquired.
"Yes dear"
"I was wondering if there was a magic book that was passed down though the generations mother to daughter that has all spells and stuff in"
"Not really dear", Natasha's mother replied.
"Oh" said Natasha a little disappointed "How do I learn magic then?"
Natasha's mother looked at her fondly. "Come with me" she said.
They headed over to the bookshelf. "Hold out you arms, " ordered Natasha's mother, "right then you'll need this one to start with". She placed in Natasha's arms the ladybird book of witchcraft. "Then this one next," Witchcraft and Magic for dummies, "and finally this one." The last book was O'Reilly's Witchcraft in a nutshell. Natasha thanked her mother, took the books upstairs and starting studying immediately.
Almost 2 weeks later and Natasha had come a long way into the world of the witches. For instance, she now had a cat, called Pig, and could do nifty tricks like freeze time, throw fireballs and get her dad all the porn channels on sky for free. She was still learning but at the rate she was going she'd be able to fuck Harry Potter's whole crew over in month.
And that's just what she did
and get her dad all the porn channels on sky for free
HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!
GENIUS!
Sul, i can honestly say you are wasted in your current soul-sapping trudgery of a job.
Posted by
Rosie, 12:37, 16th July 2003:
YAY!!
That was excellent!
:D
Posted by
chandler, 12:42, 16th July 2003:
:D
Posted by
jlittle, 13:11, 16th July 2003:
very good.
Posted by
cal, 14:37, 16th July 2003:
you rule
Posted by
zxenor, 17:10, 16th July 2003:
yes, very good work... we'll be looking forward to part 3 as well
I had a dream last night about being seduced by a very fit witch, who was the lodger of Davina McCall, who lived with her 80-year old husband. Didn't know she was a witch until later on when she told me and all that. She was all "oh join my witch gang" and I was like "I can't, it's nearly time for school". She then went "oh but I love you, and if you go away I may not be able to stop myself doing bad things". So I went home on a train which goes over a high-up rickety iron bridge, which semi-collapsed, possibly due to her. The reception on the TV fucked up as well when I got home. I missed Neighbours. Was it her fault?? Don't remember the rest.
Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that at the beginning my dog shat on Davina's carpet. She went mental.
Cheers Sul for making me dream about witches :/
Posted by
Sul, 09:23, 17th July 2003:
I'll claim the witches but the rest is down to your sick mind :/
Posted by
jlittle, 09:27, 17th July 2003:
err
Posted by
Sul, 13:21, 18th July 2003:
Part 3
It had been a week since Natasha kicked fuck out of everyone at Hogwarts. The whole school was eerily quiet. Quiet that is apart from Natasha loading up the boot of her car with all the gear she plundered. An owl, a couple of wands and loads of exotic ingredients all littered the boot of her Punto. When she was satisfied that she had taken the lame school for all it was worth she headed on back to her home in the vast woods of Kent.
While driving down the A2 Natasha had a horrific thought, "Holy fucksticks!", she screamed, "I've forgotten to get some pasta". As Natasha knows full well, pasta is the fuel for witches, they can't function without it and they cant just magic it up like they can with quarter pounders and processed cheese. "I'm going to have to make a detour" she thought and headed for Sainsburys.
Natasha parked her car up and headed into the supermarket. She walked up the first aisle. The shelves were stocked with bread and other baked goods such as apple turnovers and David Dickinson. Natasha had a theory that people who plan store layouts were always trying to find the best way to ruin your goods. "Why, oh why," she thought to herself, "why, put the bread in the first aisle?". It was was a good point. Why the fuck do they put bread in the first aisle? It ends up getting squashed flat by all the beans and shit you pile on top. It doesn't make any sense. "Perhaps its a ploy to get me to do my shopping then come back to the beginning to get my bread. Thereby forcing me to walk past all the items I've already seen. They're forcing me to take another look in case I realise I want something else! The cunts!", Natasha was getting more and more wound up by this thought. Natasha was seeing red, she had to do something to calm herself down before she completely blew her top. "What did mother tell me to do in situations like this?". Natasha thought back to the day of her 13th birthday. She recalled her mother sitting her down at the dining table and saying "Natasha, if you ever get really angry. So angry that you see red. You must punch a nun or your head may explode. Don't ask me why, you'll learn in time. But make sure you do.". Natasha looked around. Luckily across the way picking up some bakewell tarts, probably as a treat for the poor little mites in the orphanage, there was a nun. Natasha ran over and floored the bitch with one well placed blow to the face. After a few kicks while she was down for good measure, Natasha was finally calm. She carried on to the pasta aisle.
As Natasha turned the corner into the Pasta aisle she was overcome with emotion. She shed a little tear as she took in the full wonder of the range. Natasha was so happy. So happy, in fact, that she sung the pasta song. "Cannelloni, Macaroni, Lumaconi, Spaghetti, she chanted "Cannelloni, Macaroni, Lumaconi, Spaghetti", she continued as she stocked up her basket with lots of pasta goodness. After a while Natasha realised that someone was singing along with her. She turned to find out who it was. It was only Jamie fucking Oliver.
"Hello, I'm Jamie fucking Oliver", said Jamie fucking Oliver in his annoying mockney accent, "you alright darling?". Natasha couldn't believe her luck. Jamie fucking Oliver, how shit was this day going to turn out? "I'm fine, thankyou", replied Natasha as politely as she possibly could. "Pukka", said Jamie fucking Oliver, "Look, I heard you thinging and I want to use your thong on my cooking thow, yeah, tho will you sign this releathe form for it?". Natasha thought about it for all of a split second. "No fucking way you fat tongued twat. You can shove your release form up your arse. Infact.." Natasha pulled out her wand and said the magic word "twataroonical". Jamie fucking Oliver's face turned to a look of pain as he realised Natasha had shoved his release form up his arse. "And also..." continued Natasha, she said the other magic word, "twatarelly". "My arse is really sore!" whined Jamie fucking Oliver. "Hang on, a second...", Jamie fucking Oliver now had a look of horror on his face. "My trademark lisp, its gone, I'll never find work again. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!". Natasha had indeed fixed Jamie fucking Oliver's lisp. She laughed heartily at Jamie fucking Oliver as she exited the store and slashed the tires on his moped for good measure.
Posted by
Rosie, 14:01, 18th July 2003:
:D
LOL!!!
Yay for Part 3!
Posted by
chandler, 14:11, 18th July 2003:
:D
Posted by
jlittle, 14:13, 18th July 2003:
:( I like Jamie Oliver..
Posted by
Sul, 14:15, 18th July 2003:
Homo
Posted by
beargod, 14:16, 18th July 2003:
Its good Sul, but what happened to Sul PI?
Posted by
jeff, 14:27, 18th July 2003:
sul PI's work was done... maybe he'll make a reappearance in part 4?
Posted by
beargod, 14:30, 18th July 2003:
hopefully, It will be great to see how that funky guy is getting along by himself in that office, stalking people
Posted by
su, 14:16, 12th August 2004:
a bump-worthy thread
i concur with Vic
Posted by
Grim..., 16:15, 12th August 2004:
Do it, Sul!
Posted by
Sul, 17:03, 12th August 2004:
In time my little fanbase.
Posted by
Saltation, 18:21, 12th August 2004:
ah get off your big fat fanbase and type
> supping back whisky
oo a connasewer.
(note, if spelt "whiskey", would have been a conorsewer) yes, the rare back whisky. made from only the very second best grain with the front shaved off due to those grains' extreme drunkeness while feeling hairy. grain is so careless with sharp objects, and it's difficult to find a safety razor to match their little wheaten hands. it's a wonder it doesn't happen more often actually.
well, wonder no more! due to the caring sharing policy state, grain alcohol is now confiscated at an early age (mesozoic) and distributed to humans for safekeeping.
sadly, this has rendered back whisky a rare and drying beed.
ps. respecto for storyo, sultan.
*nasal-y mouth breather voice* Sul... *breath* you're my heeero.