And then...
I went out for a night out in Manchester with my friend and all his friends from home... all went well until we decided to try and get home. Realising we were miles and miles away. One person piped up that he had already got the keys for his new student house that he’d be moving into in September (this was August), we should all go back there! So we did.

Along the way we had a few scrapes, the guy who’s house we were going to got on the bus with us, and then got off just as it set off, we all just stayed on and managed to work out where to get off (pre-mobile phone days) our friend Abbo Dan (name not changed) stole the surround from a traffic light and wore it round his neck for most of the journey. Some people decided that mooning cars as they drove past was a good idea, we were walking through Fallowfield at the time, which is not a million miles from Moss Side. Most cars beeped, swerved or ignored. One guy stopped and stared for a while as one of our party ran across the road, trousers round his ankles and tripped over the catseyes...

We got in, the alarm went off for a bit til the guy who’s real name escapes me but I know he was called Eggy remembered the code. Then Little Neil decided he was hungry. The house was utterly empty apart from a packet of supernoodles and some paprika...

There were no matches for the hob and weirdly, none of us (there were 10 of us) smoked, so being a genius he put a tea towel in the toaster until it caught fire, lit the hob and threw the flaming towel out of the window.

Then there was a water fight, some people were wanting to watch the telly and one joined from the water fight, turned the socket on and dripped onto it, giving himself an electric shock powerful enough to throw him across the room (I was not present at this point, the drama of this may have been exaggerated).

The neighbours came to complain a few times, and eventually we calmed down and tried to get some sleep. I went to a room and bedded down on the single mattress. Oddly I decided that to keep a bit warmer I would take off my shirt and drape it over me... then someone ran into my room and hid in the wardrobe, someone else came in after them picked the wardrobe up and knocked it down the stairs with the person in it (he was massive and the wardrobe – and occupant – were tiny).

Eventually sleep came, only to be rudely interrupted by the shouts of “let me get my trousers, at least let me get my trousers!” from one lad who had been woken up by a policeman and dragged down the stairs.

The rozzers had arrived just in time to stop us all from being quiet. Eggy had opened the door and when asked where he lived he, instead of saying "here" answered with a small village about 20 miles away. The police weren't happy with that fact.

I was 20 at the time, I remember because we wanted to report one of the policemen and he gave us his number... “it’s your age and your favourite number” he said “2069”

So we were evicted from a house we had “broken in to”, Eggy had to persuade them to let him go back in to shut doors and windows and set the alarm, then lock the door.
(Ross McBingobangobongo bingobangobongo, Tue 29 Mar 2011, 15:29, 1 reply)

Sounds like a pretty average night in Fallowfield to me :P
(epinephrine, Wed 30 Mar 2011, 8:07, closed)