Jun. 14th, 2004

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KickEmWhenThey'reDown FM has taken to playing That Song two or three times a day. I'll tell you something, it's really beginning to get on my nerves. A person with a less Zen-like calm than me would probably be starting to show the strain. I guess I'm lucky that I have such great reserves of inner calm, because I really do need my wits about me at work at the moment. Especially now that things are starting to turn ugly.

I was attacked in the locker room this week.

I went in to change into my riding gear, before going out on my round. Big Stupid Dennis was already in there, struggling to find his way into his boots. He was humming. He hums all the fucking time.

"D'ya reckon there might be a storm" he said in his nasal, but faintly threatening manner.

"If there is, I hope you get struck by lightening" I replied conversationally.

"I always take my waterproofs with me in case of rain, so I guess it doesn't matter" he added.

"That's exactly my point" I said. "It doesn't matter"

Big Stupid Dennis went back to his humming. Despite his total inability to carry anything resembling a tune, I realised with a certain sense of growing dread that he was attempting to hum That Song. I realised instantly that he had finally snapped and was going to kill me. Humming was just his stupid way of trying to distract me for a moment.

He lumbered into his clumsy, dim-witted attack and I prepared to defend myself. I emerged from the brief but violent struggle, victorious. In fact, I emerged entirely unscathed. It was not just a win, gentle reader, it was a TOTAL win.

For the ghoulish among you, I shall describe the battle blow by blow......

After humming his feeble and annoying battle cry, Big Stupid Dennis took up what is most likely the worst attacking stance, ever, in the entire history of hand to hand combat. He put his great bulbous head and both his arms in his locker. This left his entire back exposed. In a life or death struggle like this one, you only get one chance. In an instant, I had sized him up for weaknesses and launched my defense.

I took him with a big low roundhouse kick to the back of the legs. As his knees buckled, I grabbed his shoulders and rode him to the ground. His skull made an amusingly gong-like sound as it struck the other row of lockers.

In moments like these it all comes down to practice and reflex. People used to laugh at my training techniques, but I think my victory is proof enough that it is possible to learn the martial arts by taking acid and watching Bruce Lee movies.

After checking his wallet for evidence, I went and told his supervisor that Big Stupid Dennis had slipped on the locker room floor. When the ambulance officers arrived, That Song was blaring out of their walkie talkies.

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