Not quite but nearly...
April 1993, I'm just a month from sitting my A Levels at college and am working my chumleys off in the IT room trying to get the bug ridden crock of shit in MS Basic that is my A Level Computing project into a reasonable effort.

The tutor conducting her first year class had graciously let me use a spare PC while she taught - me having been sat there programming non-stop during a lunchbreak and a free period I waited until a quiet moment and asked the girl next to me to keep her eye on my PC while I popped out for a smoke.

One Benson & Hedges inspired moment of tranquility later, I headed back to the IT room. I was somewhat disturbed to see that my PC was now showing the network login screen. Not to worry, thought I I'll just restore from the backup I took before going for a smoke... Backup? Fucksocks.

Seeing two hours work go down the drain I was slightly vexed and turned to the nearest person to me and asked "Who was just fucking about with my PC?", she simply pointed to a figure with his back to me and said quietly "him".

I was mightily pissed off at this point and marched up to the guy sitting down and grabbed the back of his chair and spun it round. I wanted to look the cnut in the eye before I twatted him senseless.

And then... He just sat there. He had buck teeth, thick glasses and his mum had cut his hair. He was the class geek (which is some achievement in A level computing, which attracts a huge proportion of freaks) and I had my fist clenched and drawn back to knock the shite out of him.

"Why the FUCK did you just do that to my PC?" I screamed

"Meh, I thwoght I thwould be a laugh" he lisped, trying to avoid eye contact and crapping himself with fear.

I had hold of his lapels at this point and was still incandescent with rage. I realised that a) I was literally twice the size of him and b) If I did brain the little twat, I'd get thrown out of college at the 11th hour.

I did the honorable thing, dragged him up to eye level by his collars and explained in expletives of one syllable that if he went within ten feet of me or my PC for the next six weeks until my project was submitted, I'd kill him, before dumping him down in his seat to consider what I'd just said.

Still, I like to think that I won a symbolic victory that day, empowered by rage I managed to get my project finished (got a C for it, woo) and subsequently continued to enjoy alcohol, full sex with women and an active social life.

Meanwhile, he went home to be fisted by his Dad again.
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Wed 15 Mar 2006, 9:42, Reply)