Last year I spent a few weeks in the South of the US visiting my cousin, who lives in Charlotte.
While there I bought some gifts for the family back home, and a pair of cheap trainers for myself. They looked pretty good but after walking a few miles in them my feet started to ache. It turned out that there was barely any substance to the sole and I could feel every pebble.

That same morning I was heading back to my cousin's place, still undecided whether to take the shoes back and ask for a refund, when I met my relative coming the other way with a couple of his mates. They were headed off to their shift in the food canning factory up the road and invited me to have a look round. I was pretty bored so decided to tag along. The guys clocked in and I joined a visitor group about to start on one of their organised tours. A mind-numbingly dull two hours followed as we saw room after room of boiling hot pipes, conveyor belts and vats. The only thing that kept me awake was the constant pain from my soles, walking up and down the metal staircases. I promised myself that as soon as we were finished I'd take the footwear straight back to the shop.

And then we came to the tinned fruit room. The catwalk over the production line had a sharp, overly-pronounced anti-slip pattern and the minute I set foot on it the agony was unbearable. Thankfully I spotted a pair of workman's boots sitting unattended by a litter bin, next to the nearest control panel. I hung back a little and, when no-one was looking, limped across and swapped footwear. I took a good few steps after the group. As luck would have it the boots were comfortable and just my size! By this point I was so sick of the running shoes in my hand that rather than carry them home, I hurled them towards the bin. Stupid idea. They missed by a good six inches and went sailing over the guard-rail, bounced once off a pipe and disappeared into an open vat of steaming fruit.

I looked around quickly. No-one had noticed a thing, so I quietly rejoined the group and finished the tour. A week later my cousin read in the local press about a product recall. Two households had reported finding the mangled, boiled remains of a flimsy trainer amongst their mandarin segments. And both of those were my thin shoe canned, NC.
( drimble he'd been white, he'd been black, Fri 13 Feb 2015, 20:27, 10 replies)

someone injecting you with bleach is something I'd pay to see.

( d.r._and_quinch when will you be famous?, Fri 13 Feb 2015, 20:57, closed)

xxx

( drimble he'd been white, he'd been black, Fri 13 Feb 2015, 22:23, closed)

Damn you
Damn you and all your kind
( rachelswipe with a fork, Fri 13 Feb 2015, 21:00, closed)

Laboured and convoluted.
I hope you are ashamed.
( edjogs Collared doves are shit., Fri 13 Feb 2015, 21:00, closed)

You kind of gave yourself away here
in that your story made no sense at all.
( .Yeti. El amor en los tiempos del cólera, Fri 13 Feb 2015, 21:04, closed)

^ This.

( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Sat 14 Feb 2015, 17:53, closed)

Almost as if I came up with the last sentence first and was unable to write a convincing background for it but decided to post it anyway.

( drimble he'd been white, he'd been black, Sun 15 Feb 2015, 13:10, closed)

I hope you die in the same fire that claims Doctor Skagra.

( Amorous Badger NAKED BEA ARTHUR PHOTOS 4U, Sat 14 Feb 2015, 0:59, closed)

I liked it

(Captain Placid 24/7 ball gags, brownie mix and clown porn, Sat 14 Feb 2015, 9:14, closed)

SO did I

(Dr Skagra glorious glargzhem, Sun 15 Feb 2015, 15:35, closed)