Quite, quite mad
Back in the glory days of the Welshland of my youth, there was a loverly local dealer. Sparkly blue eyes, tall, broad, cheeky, charming, would do anything for me, and thoroughly enjoyed doing so - an absolute gem. He seemed to have become immune to some of the effects of speed as he'd always have plenty of energy, but rarely, um, be let down at the worng moment. However, my unerring ability to spot to mentalist in the room hadn't gone wrong, and as we ended up together for a time, I started to learn about his other 'qualities'.

I put up with him sprinkling a gram of quality speed onto a burger (he hadn't eaten for four days and had to tempt himself somehow), the high tension wire across all his windows in case people tried to rob him, the nails banged into the bottom of the door in case anyone tried to kick his door in, his psycho ex threatening me, his psycho friends (they could be useful as long as they were on your side). I laughed at the fridge holding only tupperware boxes of uncut speed and glucose. I was amused by his stealing a set of stairs and using them to convert his loft. I chuckled at his building a breakfast bar when most wise folks are dreaming happily. I listened sympathetically as I heard him get arrested for throwing someone down the stairs (they'd got past the nails in the door, impaled themselves and then met him at the top so I presume there was a big mess) - he was that good. Really.

I came to my senses when he was cleaning a blank firing gun for a friend and decided it would be interesting to pull the trigger. I wasn't there, but the story goes that the police were called; they sent out an armed resonse unit and surrounded his house. Cue the lovely boy calling the police in the depths of his usual paranoia, convinved he was being watched. 'Help', he said, 'My house is surrounded!' 'Yes', said the police, 'It's us. We've heard reports of gunfire. Please come out wearing a white T-shirt, and hold your hands in the air'

So he left the house in the only white T-shirt he could find. One that had a target on the front.

I can put up with mental; at the time, I'd have put up with the gun, but stupid? That I can't forgive.
( ancrenne doesn't eat anything that can play video games, Fri 17 Nov 2006, 19:54, closed)