The Night Terrors Are Back

I got a nice email from Lambent yesterday who said:
“You’re a fucking cunt and I’m going to kill you with a fucking spoon.”

Thanks mate, that’s my weekend fucked. I have a deep rooted fear of spoons. I flinch whenever one is brandished or pointed in my general direction. I cannot use one, not even a spork. I have had to invent an alternative spoon like utensil for the purposes of spooning, which due to an agreement with the International Brotherhood of Utensil Manufacturers, I cannot show you.

I know you are all dying to know what possible series of events, what kind of trauma or experience would cause such an unreasonable fear of an everyday household item. Well, I don’t like talking about it, but my therapist says that it’s good to talk and that by getting it off my chest, I may someday be able to once again enjoy soup. So, here I go…..

The burning body of a girl had been found dumped on a golf course just outside Manchester. (Why do they always dump them on golf courses?) A number of youths, both male and female, were arrested and tried for the murder of the girl and the story that came out in court was intriguing to say the least. One of the female members of the group had lost a prized pink jacket and had spotted the unfortunate victim wearing a jacket of the exact same colour and style. The defendant claimed that the girl had stolen the jacket and hatched a plan with her group to seek revenge.

The group decided to kidnap the girl and kept her in the home of one of the group, tied naked to a mattress spring, where they proceeded to torture her. The torture was the worst part for my acid and ecstasy addled mind. They had strapped some headphones to her head, injected her with speed then made her listen non stop to one of the popular techno albums of the day, Void Dweller by Eon. If you don’t know, Void Dweller, with tracks like Fear: The Mindkiller, Basket Case and Spice is not an album to fucked with if you don’t like techno, especially if you are being forcibly injected with speed and are tied to a bed frame at the time. Anyway, as if all this wasn’t bad enough they also set about beating the shit out of her with a wooden spoon. I remember thinking “How bad could that be? How much damage could you do with a wooden spoon?”
One night, shortly after reading this, my friends and I were tripping our tits off round at somebody’s parent’s house while they were away for a weekend in Prestatyn or somewhere like that. I went into the kitchen to make a brew and saw something that totally freaked me out. Hanging on the wall above the stove were these:

Instruments of death

A gigantic wooden spoon and fork set. I backed out of the kitchen, visibly disturbed by what I had seen. My friends, sensing that summat was up, asked what the problem was. I told them the story and pretty much ruined everybody’s trip as we spent the next couple of hours trying not to think about the girl’s ordeal.
A short while later, I went for a piss and some fresh air, when I returned I was pounced upon by a couple of the lads and held down while one of the others fetched the dreaded implements from the kitchen and another changed the CD and turned up the volume. The track? Fear: The Mindkiller. I just want you all to know, I didn’t cry.

With friends like these, you don’t need an enema.