Posted by: splosher | 09/01/2011

A dalliance with the demon drink… pt 2

So, with my now-injured brother G bumbling his way towards his girlfriend’s mother’s house and their New Year’s Eve family party, things were definitely beginning to unravel in his little world: he had head-butted and successfully smashed a bus shelter’s Tempered glass panel with nothing more than his skull and was now deliriously wandering towards his destiny. Now, my brother has very limited recall for the following account, although he does occasionally get a flashback occasionally of such horrifying clarity that instant suppression is required to avoid festering upon being such a f**king idiot.

It was his girlfriend’s step dad who saw my brother next – I’ll call him “T” for sake of the story – just as he finally arrived bloodied and bruised at her mother’s house: “Jesus, we opened the door and your G was standing there, covered in blood!” said T as he elaborated upon the beginning of the end. “Everyone thought he’d either been jumped by a gang of pricks or he’d has a car crash, it was that bad,” he said in surprise as he remembered, “so after he got cleaned up and we all found out what had actually happened – that according to G, he’d cycled into a bus stop full belt ‘cause he was pissed up – we all had a good laugh about it and then the drinking started.”

T continued. “Anyway, a few hours later and your G’s absolutely arseholed, to the point he’s talking loud as f**k and slouching at the table, propping himself up with just one eye open,” at this T started to laugh, “but the thing is, we were all pissed anyway, so he didn’t stand out as doing anything odd; well, not until he picked up his chair and started waving it about like a f**king idiot! I mean, we always knew he didn’t get on with her mother but the bang to his head that day must have concussed him ‘cause the next thing is he’s stood up in front of us all, holding the chair by its back and shouting ‘Get back you f**king beast!’ at a fifty eight year old woman with back problems, for Christ’s sake!”

“Then, it got even worse because your G managed to get hold of his girlfriend’s brother and for whatever reason,  thought he was in a wrestling match with him,” T was shaking his head in disbelief as he recanted the building horror show he witnessed. “So, we’re trying to get your brother to let go of him but he’s in a headlock and all your G keeps saying as he’s laughing his head off is ‘CHECK OUT THE HALF-NELSON!”

Apologetically, T informed me of what happened next. “Sorry mate, but that’s when we called the Police you see, because he was gone, completely f**king gone and so, once I managed to convince him to leave ‘cause the cops were coming, he was off,” he said, once again trying to withhold a building snigger. “I mean, we knew he didn’t get on with her mother and we should have expected something happening but with the bang to his head, he took it to another level,” and at this, T burst out laughing, “Jesus, it was that bad, she threw me out of the house the day after for laughing along, but believe me it was funny as f**k, I’m telling you!”   

I asked my Brother about his recollection, but it mostly drew a blank: “Nah, can’t remember anything about the chair, but I was told about that a few days later,” he said, obviously still confused about the timeline of self-destruction. “But as for leaving that bitch’s house, I just have a couple of images of staggering up the street in the drizzle, being blinded by oncoming headlights and then seeing the flashing blue Police car lights approaching,” He suddenly stopped and after a short pause while juggling to find the right words, my brother continued, “and because I had a dull memory of being told the Police had been ‘phoned, I jumped head-first into the nearest bushes!”

“And why did you do that again?” I asked him as I tried to suppress the image of my brother arseholed and prostrate in roadside shrubbery.

He shrugged his shoulders after a couple of seconds of exploratory mind searching that didn’t relinquish anything of consequence. “It just seemed like the right thing to do with a head full of piss at the time,” he said as he scrunched his face as an obvious firing synapse triggered yet another flash of recalled regret, “but I got stuck head-first down, with my feet sticking out for all to see, especially the Police car that just pulled up next to my flailing legs and blasted me with a high-power torch. Well, that was that and I can remember one of the Policemen saying, ‘What’s this then, playing hide and seek are we? Well you’ve f**king lost, Pal!’ which was followed by a load of laughing as they got out and dragged me from of the bushes backwards.”

From this point onwards, it was game over for my brother’s night out and luckily for him, the police arrested him and took him back to the local station. Once there, he was checked over by an on-call doctor because the custody Sergeant didn’t like the look of his injury and he was found to have sustained a hairline fracture to his skull, hence the bizarre behaviour on display since his crash. So, he was whizzed off to the local hospital in time and everything worked out in his favour, even to the point of just receiving a caution for being such a moron!

You see, Fate just sometimes works in your favour and this is a prime example of luck being on your side, so to speak: if he hadn’t been arrested, then my brother may have fallen asleep at home, alone and anything could have happened with a head injury like that. As it was, things worked out just fine, what with the discovery of a skull fracture in time and the destruction of his relationship with his girlfriend due to attacking her mother and brother in their family home.   

I’ll leave the final words to my brother G to wrap up his story of bludgeoned karma:

“Knocking myself senseless taught me a valuable lesson in life, even though I should have been old enough to have learnt it by that age, and it was simply this: don’t get completely pissed when riding a bike and whatever you do, don’t get too involved with a slut, no matter how much you’re getting your dick sucked, ‘cause if you eventually get to meet her mother, then you’ll know where she’s f**king heading and what your future f**king looks like!”

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