Stevie the Wonder.
Once upon a time when the world was young and life was full of infinite possibilities, I had a friend. Now Stevie was as black as the ace of spades. Not chocolate or very dark chocolate but black. His skin had an almost blue sheen to it he was so black. He also had two lovely scars down each side of his chest, one from being glassed in a nightclub the other from falling down the stairs pissed when he came home from a nightclub ( and going straight through the glass-topped phone table at the foot of the stairs). Obviously ladies were informed that they were tribal initiation scars. Stevie was something of a reprobate and exceedingly good company if you were a good runner. Some of the scrapes he got into were legendary but this is the nightclub question.

So, after trolling around the local hostelries and having reached the point of Crufts competitiors looking good, we were off to the favourite den of iniquity. A few more drinks were had. And then a few more. It was a slow night and obviously (to Stevie anyway) in need of enlivenment. He asked me to go and pick up a girl (any girl, looks size etc immaterial) and bring her to the favoured trysting zone, a very dark corner under the stairs. Stevie had decided earlier on to try a new look. Black silk shirt with huge collars (70s, it was cool) and a black nicely cut suit – way ahead of his time. Anyway, I procured said female and she needed little convincing to join me under the stairs for a little exploration. I could see no sign of Stevie so got down to some buscatorial entanglement. At this point Stevie decided to make his presence felt. By opening his eyes, grinning and then shouting “wooga wooga wooga” while flapping his arms like a maniac. He had been standing in the dark under the stairs, motionless and with eyes and mouth closed. The young lady lost control completely. She screamed into my mouth and pissed herself. All over my best powder blue disco pants. By this time Stevie was rolling on the floor clutching his sides and pissing himself too, but with laughter.

The young lady complained to the door-apes and we were removed. Good times.
(porkylips looks better as the sun goes down., Wed 15 Apr 2009, 9:06, 6 replies)

Ha!
My mate Dan does the same thing. We call him the Cheshire Cat.
( SpankyHanky, Wed 15 Apr 2009, 9:37, closed)

*click*
v. good.

Now if Jim Davidson told that joke about his mate Chalky, we'd all be outraged.
(bazmorningstar efil4nat3b, Wed 15 Apr 2009, 10:19, closed)

But
that's cos Jim Davidson is a cunt
(Fuckarma was masturbating into your handbag, Wed 15 Apr 2009, 11:10, closed)

Excellent
*click*

Is that what they mean by black comedy?
( stopmeandslapme Cometh the hour, cometh your mum, Wed 15 Apr 2009, 12:34, closed)

My friend Tony
used to share a flat with Seal.

His 'tribal scars' were from acne.

*FACT*
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Wed 15 Apr 2009, 13:19, closed)

Excellent...!

Funny as fuck, and well written too. Stevie sounds like a funny guy. I look forward to reading future tales about his exploits.

I haven't been about the QotW much lately, so I'm glad I stumbled across this gem whilst having a crafty lurk.

*clicks heartily*

*fucks off back to work*
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Thu 16 Apr 2009, 13:20, closed)