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Associated Press Story: 'The Peng Challenge Thread Welcomes Refugees, Decries Idiocy'

Seanachai
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Kitty Senior Member

Kitty

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Originally posted by Seanachai:

Don't do it, Sky Kitty. Eventually you wake up with your underwear missing, your top done up wrong, and a horrible taste in your mouth.

At least that's what Papa Khann always tells me...

If I'm lucky!!!!! Where's my cab fare?!?! :mad:
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Seanachai Senior Member

Seanachai

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Oh, Dear God!! Is there anything more horrifying than getting ready to go on a trip, and cleaning out the refrigerator before you leave, and opening the tupperware that for quite a few weeks you thought had cheese in it, just to make sure the cheese hasn't gone excessively moldy, only to find that it contains an uncooked boneless chicken breast that went horribly off about 48 hours after you sealed the container?

We're talking a slimy, gray coloured oblong with the general consistency of jello. The stench, as the cover came off the container, actually induced my throat to seize up in an effort to avoid vomiting up several important internal organs. I staggered back, temporarily blinded, and crashed into the rolling counter top, knocking untold items to the floor. This was of no importance to me, compared to making sure that not one drop of fluid (or any other partially jellied substance) was spilled from the tupperware container.

Mucous membranes kicked in, producing huge volumes of snot in an attempt to block the olfactory passages from further degradation, as well as plugging my throat in order to throw up some sort of blockade against further contamination. In an effort to save itself, my body clearly and without mercy expected me to breathe through my pores. It was like a physiological declaration of martial law...

I managed to get the top back on, despite shaking hands. Mind, if I'd known what was inside, I'd never have opened it. I'd just have sealed it with about 20 wrappings of duct tape, put it in a garbage bag, and frantically driven north to Dalem's house to bury it in his backyard.

Despite fans, open windows, doors, incense, sage wands, and prayer, the kitchen still smells like the Cheery Waffle thread.

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dalem Senior Member

dalem

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Originally posted by Kitty:

</font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by Seanachai:

Don't do it, Sky Kitty. Eventually you wake up with your underwear missing, your top done up wrong, and a horrible taste in your mouth.

At least that's what Papa Khann always tells me...

If I'm lucky!!!!! Where's my cab fare?!?! :mad: </font>
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Seanachai Senior Member

Seanachai

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Originally posted by dalem:

...in between vigorous drinking and merriment.

Merriment? Is that what you young people are calling it now a days?

Besides, if you touch Sky Kitty, you'd send Mace into some sort of psychotic episode.

He'd probably fly to Minneapolis and move in with you, guzzling all your alcohol, eating your food, and weeping uncontrollably on your couch.

Oh, and I can't go out on Lars's boat this weekend, you idjit. I'm going to be in northern Wisconsin, immediately followed by the Winnipeg Folk Festival. I'll be available for you to sit at my feet and gain wisdom and humility after the 12th.

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Seanachai Senior Member

Seanachai

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What a fascinating night I'm having...

I leave for northern Wisconsin at 9 AM tomorrow...well, rather, this morning. So, of course, rather than getting a good night's sleep, I was doing what I always do on the night before an out of town trip: Tidying the apartment so that whoever breaks in to steal all my worldly goods doesn't think I'm scum. Cleaning out the refrigerator (see above), packing, going through the bills to see which will result in disconnection of services if it's not paid before I get back, etc.

And at 2 AM, with a feeling of satisfaction, I get online to maybe post a final taunt to Dalem, when I hear tires screech and a very loud, very solid termination of someone's attempts to drive down my block.

So of course I head for the door and dash out into the night. Because sometimes my cars parked out front, you know, and at 2 AM on a Friday night, people who intersect parked cars sometimes, if they're able, simply drive away to fight another day. Fortunately, for once in a very great while, my car is parked out back.

And what to my wondering eyes does appear but an SUV that's on the wrong side of the street, up over the curb, and looking considerably the worse for wear.

Sadly, I've only had time to complete the first two of my normal four point check list before rushing out into the hockey jersey night (another story entirely that involves Minnesota sports and a misunderstanding involving Bruce Springsteen lyrics). One, I am wearing pants, and two, I have my keys so I can get back into the building. Points 3 & 4, have I grabbed my phone, and do I have a weapon, have rather gone by the wayside.

So I'm standing there on the steps of my apartment, looking at this crippled SUV that has it's lights out, and even though I was out there in something like 30 seconds, I figure the idiots involved have already done a runner. And then the yelling begins.

Some guy inside starts yelling "You bitch, this is all your fault! You bitch! If you hadn't a took my dope, this would never have happened! You goddamn bitch, this is because you took my dope!" And this black guy gets out of the driver's seat, still yelling, and stands there yelling about his dope.

Another guy gets out of the car, and moves very quickly, without actually running, to the other side of the street, and starts yelling 'Anton! Anton, man, c'mon! We gotta leave! You're gonna get arrested, man! Let's go, c'mon. Forget her, man, let her drive it home.'

This is amusing because even in the dark, from where I'm standing, it's clear that no one is going to be driving this car anywhere anytime soon. And the driver is still screaming at someone in the car, and then he walks back to it, and wham! he takes out the driver's side window with his fist while still screaming 'You bitch!'

But then things become a bit disturbing, because then I hear a baby start to cry. And I realize that there's a woman in the car who's afraid to get out, and there are kids in the car. But Mister 'Where's My Dope' finally starts to walk away. His buddy is still yelling at him. So this young woman gets out of the car and is trying to get a baby out of the car seat in back, and there's a toddler hanging out the back window on the other side.

So I walk out into the yard, and she sees me, and she gestures to me, and I hear this trembling voice say 'please come here'. So I go over to the car.

She's got a 3 year old and an 8 month old with her. Mr 'You Took My Dope Away, Bitch' has first hit a tree, taking all the bark off one side, then jumped the curb and come to rest 3 feet up onto the boulevard, just off the sidewalk. The axle is clearly broken, the tie rod snapped, the tire is hanging off the wheel. The fender is crumpled. There's glass all over the sidewalk from where the dumb bastard has punched out the side window.

Ah. the tow truck has just shown up to take away the wreck...

Anyways, I go up to the young woman. She's maybe early to mid-twenties, no older; thin, blonde, glasses. And she's scared...spitless. She's visibly trembling, which is pretty visible if you can tell it at 2 AM on a darkened street. She says to me 'please don't leave me'.

So I of course display my keen situational awareness by asking her: Are you alright?

Of course she's not alright. It turns out it's her car. She's got two kids with her. Her car is totaled, and her ex-boyfriend (as it turns out to be), is still only half way down the block shouting at her. They've just hit a tree and jumped a 7" high concrete curb.

So I tell her, 'C'mon, let's go call the police. You get your kids and come into my place.' So she gathers up the two kids and we start walking back to my building.

And, of course, Mr. Happiness immediately comes back, shouting and threatening 'You bitch, you bitch, who's this guy?!' It's almost comical. To a sufficiently stupid, jacked-up drunk, no situation can't be made more idiotic.

So I'm standing there telling this guy 'I'm just the guy who heard you hit the tree. I live here. I just want this lady to come in and call a cab so she can take her kids home'. The brain is wandering down all those normally unexplored paths involving non-confrontation, avoiding the words 'we're going inside to call the cops on your worthless, drunken arse', and wishing I didn't wear glasses. I can't afford to replace these glasses, dammit.

So he's yelling. He wants her to go with him. She's trembling big-time and shaking her head. Occasionally she squeaks 'no'. He's yelling 'I know you're gonna go call the police, you f***ing bitch! And I'm gonna go to jail again'. What the hell's wrong with that? Best place for him, so far as I can see. But I refrain from pointing this out.

So I keep saying, hey, guy, c'mon. She's not going to go call the police. It's not a lie; I'm going to go call the police. She's going to try and calm the kids down. I tell him: She just wants to call a cab (eventually, after the police get here, she'll probably need a cab, given what you've done to her car, you ass). Just calm down, eh?

"Did she tell you I hit her?! Did she?"

"She hasn't said anything to me, man. She just wants to take her kids home. The kids are scared. Let's just stay calm, okay? There's kids here."

"Goddamn bitch! I never hit her. You look, you didn't see me hit her, did you? Look at my hand! I'm cut down to the bone! That's her fault! It's all her fault! She cut me!

A new form of Martial Arts: using a stationary car window to suddenly lacerate the hand of your opponents. The key is to be the window, grasshopper...

So all this time, I'm trying to get him to run away. 'Man, the police are probably going to come. You should just walk away, man. Don't be here.' And I'm trying to get her into my apartment building. Pity the 'security door' is 70% glass. His buddy comes back, and is saying 'Yo, man, just let the bitch go, just let it go. C'mon, lets leave.'

Oddly, I think he's doing the same thing I am. He's trying to get violent drunk guy to just walk away. I look at him, and he's sweating buckets. He knows that he's almost certainly going to have to talk to the police at some point. But he doesn't just want to abandon his buddy. Kinda sad, actually.

So I get the girl into my fourplex, and I open the security door, and Violent Drunk Idiot (hereafter called 'Anton'), pushes in after us. And the six of us, Girl, Anton, Anton's scared but resigned buddy, 8 month old, 3 year old, and the Gnome you know, are all standing there in the foyer of the building, and he's trying to convince her to leave with him. She's got a better grip, and she's now seriously telling him 'no!'.

Me, pacifist gnome, has one hand on his shoulder going 'Hey, man, she just wants to use my phone (she's holding her cell phone). She just wants a cab (never change the story in mid-stream; any change will jar a drunk into an uncharacteristic bout of clarity). You should leave, man, the cops are probably going to come (Jesus Christ, where the hell are my goddamn neighbours?! I know it's 2 AM, but there's a crazy loud drunk black guy shouting in our building entrance. You bastards can't all be that asleep!).

What I'm getting in response is: "You shut up, nigger! (okay, the light's a little dim in the foyer, but I'm clearly a gnome), or I'll take your f*****g head off!"

Oddly, besides language and threats, he's not taken a swing at me, nor seems likely too. I put this down to the fact that I'm witty, charming, and charismatic. Having experienced this, I know that you'll all understand what I'm saying. He's twice threatened to hit the girl, and I'm getting tense. Except, of course, every time he draws back his fist, he's shouting 'I never hit you!'

Not one of our clearer thinkers.

Of course, at this point the girl is also getting over her shock, and her terror has turned into anger. She's shouting back 'Yes you do! I've never gone out with anyone who beat me up except you! Look (she tells me), look at my lip! He hit me just before he wrecked my car ( I can't see her fecking lip. I'm trying to make significant but non-confrontational eye-contact with this guy who's about 5" taller than I am). And he's yelling "Did you ever see me hit her? Have you? I never hit the bitch!"

Vaudeville, it was, packed into a very small place. It's hotter than hell in the unventilated hallway outside my apartment door. I'm telling the girl, quietly, to take her kids into my apartment and lock the door. I'm calmly telling her ex-boyfriend that 'it's too hot in here, man. Let's you and I go outside and calm down. She's just going to take the kids into my apartment until her cab gets here.'

So then the lunatic pulls out his cell phone and announces "I know what's gonna happen. I'm goin' to jail again. I'm goin' down for a dirty drunk DWI. Okay! I'm gonna call 911 myself!" And he proceeds to do so. He calls 911 and gives her name, his name, tells about the kids, how he's stupid drunk and the car is wrecked, stops to ask me the address, and tell's them how he's bleeding (he keeps showing me the blood. It was pretty good bleeding, but nothing spectacular. He wanted it to be more dramatic than it was. I bled a lot more and had more bone showing when I was a junior in college and punched out a dorm window after my girlfriend broke up with me. Mind, he really sprayed the safety glass hither and yon when he popped out that window. Oh, and he did still have glass in the wound, but that's because he was too bloody stupid to brush it out).

The only discrepancy in this sudden show of rationality and apparent nobility is the fact that he keeps telling them that 'she hit him', and that 'she was driving', which contradicts his insistence that they arrest him for DWI (not to mention the observed facts).

And then he takes the 8 month old away from her. It's his kid, apparently. He takes the baby away, and he finally leaves. So he and his buddy head out with the child. I tell the girl to go into my apartment and lock the door, and I head out to try and talk with these guys.

And low and behold, the cops arrive. They had just past the wrecked SUV, and two guys from another house come out to talk to them. Meanwhile I'm waving and shouting 'Officers, officers, this way! Over here! He's taking the child!'

Finally I just start yelling, 'Yo, cops! Over here, goddamnit!' They back up to me. They've been very busy talking to two guys who stayed inside their house until the squad actually showed up. I start telling them what's going on. They're on the radio. They won't even open their windows. I keep showing them my hands, and pointing at where the two guys are heading off with the 8 month old baby. After about 3 minutes they actually get out of the car. They ignore me. I'm trying to tell them what happened, and I keep pointing at where these guys have gone. For the last freaking 20 minutes I'm the only person who's been outside, has seen every moment of the incident, knows what's happening, and where the criminals are. They walk around the SUV, and talk to each other.

Vaudeville, it was, with mosquitoes.

The girl comes out with her 3 year old and tells the officers that her ex is presently escaping, drunk and drugged up, with an 8 month old child. This finally galvanizes a response. Perhaps I seemed too calm, or something. Or maybe, as you lot keep suggesting, I was giving them too much detail. They drive away. The neighbourhood fills with sirens. Periodically the air fills with the sounds of screeching tires.

I say to her 'sounds like they've spotted them.' And she says, 'yeah, but why are they screeching their tires? Anton and his buddy are on foot.' And I tell her, oh, well, you know. Maybe they saw them and had to do a high speed u-turn. Maybe they're trying to quickly seal off streets. But mostly, they like to make sure it's dramatic. She laughed.

I almost said 'Ask Slapdragon. He'll tell you.'

We talked a bit. I didn't want to leave her outside alone, but I hesitated to invite her in because I figured the cops would be back shortly to take her statement, arrange for a ride home, deal with her trashed car. They didn't even get her name before they went in hot pursuit. Then the guy next door showed up, and told her, 'hey, I don't have any furniture yet, but you can come in and get your kids away from the mosquitoes.' After he told me he'd been living there for 8 months (he was a very nice guy, told me he liked to sit on the front porch in the dark and have a few cocktails...), I kind of wondered about not having any furniture yet, but treat it as the right one, as they say.

I told them I'd stay outside and wait for the cops to come back. Man, I lost about a pint of blood to the Minnesota State bird. And then the cops came back. I knocked on the window of the building next door, and got the woman to come back out.

And this is the really weird part.

The cop who took her statement, and eventually mine, looked exactly like Papa Khann. He could have a been his slightly younger, stockier brother. Same hair, same mustache, same bone structure. Very similar voice. It was freaking me out.

And then the woman's Mom showed up to pick her up, and proceeded to take 5 tries to front and back into a parking spot on the street that was 3 car lengths long. The Mom staggered slightly when she came up to talk to the girl. Clearly traumatized beyond all sobriety.

The cops came back with the ex-boyfriend, and his buddy, and the 8 month old, and gave the kid back to the girl. They put Anton and his buddy into the back seat of another squad car for transportation to jail. I felt more than a bit bad for the buddy. He could have bailed. He didn't. He stuck by his idiot friend.

I thought of you lot of tossers.

I gave my statement to the police. Then I came in here and wrote this post.

[ July 03, 2004, 07:00 AM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

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Mace Senior Member

Mace

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I got involved in a similar incident once (bloke beating the crap out of spouse/girlfriend).

Boy was the adrenalin rush that occured soon afterwards neat! :D

Mace

PS well handled mate, I always look up to you (or is it down? I think you're shorter?) as a well rounded individual.

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