Wednesday, July 05, 2006

I'll shout myself hoarse for your supernatural force

My brother (not the one with the bionic hip, the other one) phoned me to pass on natal felicitations and, naturally, to wind me up (fraternal Law). The lucky bugger had some draught Spitfire (advertising slogan "Downed all over Kent - just like the L├╝ftwaffe") about his person, and invited me to listen to him slurping it with enjoyment.

"You do that, you bastard, and I might have to kill you" (or words to that effect) was my retort.

"No chance, you're too far away. I'm safe at this distance."

*sssssssllllllllluuuuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrpppppppp .... coughcoughcoughcoughcough*

It was several minutes before he could speak again, having nearly drowned. The beer had gone down the wrong way. It was even longer before I could speak again, being so weak from hysterical laughter.

That'll teach him not to doubt his little sister's Powers.
*cackles evilly*

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