My Friday the 13th story
Today I fell down a hole in the road. At the bottom of the hole was a wasp which stung me on the bottom. I yelped in pain and jumped up in the air and a car which was driving down the road smashed into my head. My brains fell out all over the road, and magpies swooped down and ate them. I threw traffic cones at the magpies but I hit a policeman and he arrested me. On the way to jail with a bunch of other prisoners, local gangsters hijacked the bus to free their leader who was also a prisoner. They drove us to Khazakstan and when I belittled the Khazaks' human rights record, they fed me to the yaks. The yaks turned up their noses at me. So I asked mongooses to eat me as well, but they were even more superior and threw a python at me. The python swallowed me and inside it I found a little wooden boy who'd come to life through some kind of magic. I argued with the little boy about the Reign of Terror and the 1848 revolutions. The little boy leapt at me and rammed splinters into my eyes. Because I was blinded and unable to see where I was going, I fell out of the python's rectum and found myself in the python's litter tray. I got the sawdust up my nose and it made me sneeze. With the violent rivers of snot acting like a rocket, I was propelled towards the tropics where I landed in a Burmese tobacco plantation. Smokers from Scotland annoyed by the public smoking ban were trying to set fire to the tobacco, but only succeeded in setting fire to my hair. I was forced to shave all my hair off with the sharpened beak of a toucan. A busload of supermodels were in the area to shoot a calendar for a tyre company but they laughed and said that shaven heads were very past it. I was very ashamed and turned bright red. A baboon assumed that my red face was the backside of his girlfriend Letitia, and he attempted to have monkey intercourse with me. I cursed and shrieked and ended up covered in fur and simian blood. At that point TV chef Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall arrived, making a series on what jungle animals are best to make a hotpot of. He trapped me in a hemp net made from plants he had grown and cut down all by himself. I was thrown in a giant metal pot and a fire was lighted underneath it. The water made all the blood and fur come off and the TV crew realised I wasn't a monkey and they took me out. They thought I was a turtle instead, so they tried to make me into soup, but I made a run for it. Sadly, I was hit by a runaway ricksaw that had got lost in Beijing. The rickshaw driver was very annoyed and hit me with his whip which he used to whip the rickshaw when he wasn't pedalling fast enough. The whip got stuck in my ear and came out my other ear and now everybody joined in to whip my brain. Luckily I was near the airport and got tangled up in the undercarriage of a cargo plane flying to a depot in Kansas. There an inadvertantly rude remark about Chuck Norris led to me being threatened and beaten up by a large man in a white undershirt. I sighed loudly at this, and an old lady told me to shh. When I told her to fuck off she hit me with her walking frame and ran away. I noticed that the walking frame was incredibly heavy as it bounced off my chest and the back of my head. I realised that it was made of gold, and I was able to sell it and buy a plane ticket home and still have lots of money left over for whisky and appetisers. So who says Friday 13 is unlucky?