Jock was all of nineteen and more than halfway through his apprenticeship with a building firm. He loved to party on the weekends, and if he didn’t have to work he would have loved to party every night of the week.
One Saturday night he was invited by this guy and his girlfriend to go back to their house for “a bit of a romp”. Jock thought it a good idea, and followed the couple’s old van to their house in his car.
Would he like a beer? A coffee? Anything? Jock thought he’d like a coffee. Why not? He had a night of “romping” ahead of him and plenty of time later for a beer or two.
Twenty minutes after finishing his coffee he knew it had been laced with something. One of his hands started to shake, and he felt scared. There was no reason to feel scared but he did. He was terrified, in fact, of something unseen. He stumbled outside and got in his car. He drove off.
He didn’t have a clue where he was going. He just drove, quite slowly because things were a bit fuzzy, but he had to get away. There was someone standing under a street light. It was a hitchhiker. Jock stopped.
“Can you drive?” asked Jock. The hitchhiker could. “Can you drive me home? Someone laced my coffee and I’m not thinking straight.”
The hitchhiker drove. When he got safely home Jock gave the hitchhiker money to get a taxi to where he was going. All night Jock sat up in his bed staring at the door. He was scared stupid. He thought someone would come through the door to get him.
This was a turning point for Jock. He settled down (ever so slightly), met someone, fell in love, and they now have five kids. Most weekends Jock takes the kids camping or fishing. Or they just mess about. A good story, eh?
That was such a transformational climax, and a reminder of how the town is full of weird psychopaths who target fun loving young chaps and destroy their adventurous souls.
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Nothing beats a transformational climax…
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Oh, how I loved this story. There were so many opportunities for the BA touch to be applied, but you didn’t succumb to the temptation.
Will normal transmission resume tomorrow, dear readers? Tune in and see what BA offers.
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I told you… “A good story eh?”!!
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Aye, lad.
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I give up, I tried to comment thusly “!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” to your reply to Uma’s comment, with no luck.
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WP sometimes likes to make life difficult!
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Holy cow! So many instances where this could’ve gone horribly wrong for Josh, but he gets home safely and finds his happily ever after. I wonder if the next invitee for a “romp” will be so lucky.
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In New Zealand (long before your time of course) girls’ loose bottom clothing for physical exercise used to be called “rompers” – sort of feminine pantaloons.
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Oh my gosh–I’m sure I’d be very athletic if I had gear called “rompers!”
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You nearly had me running for my tissue box when I read this remarkable ending. Anxiety and events of this nature normally have negative connotations, but you turned that on its head. Bravo!
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Deep down I’m New Age! Or was that yesterday?
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I think now that you are exposed to awesome blogs like Sineads, only good things can come of it. Call it what you will.
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I guess all of those were Jock’s final delirious thoughts before he gave up the ghost and his organs were sold on the black market.
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Ouch! Now that is a dark scenario!
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