I had one of the oddest days of my early-teenage life in Leicester. Would make for a long and rambly story so will simple drop a few breadcrumbs and leave it to y'all's 'maginations. Elements included: heavy drinking, phantom stabbings, the (Un)Real IRA, the police and a pair of beshitted undercrackers. Connect the dots as y'all please.
You got heavily intoxicated upon leicecestershire hill.
Using alcohol as your poison.
It was at this point that the (un)real IRA turned up. Shouting & planting bombs all over the fucking place. Demanding ransom and such.
This wasn't a good look so the police were promptly called.
Sirens could be heard in the distance. They got closer and closer, and when the first of the police cars arrived the officers jumped out & you shouted over to them: "Help officers! I've been stabbed by a knife".
"Okay sonny Jim. We'll help you out. What with being the long arm of the law and all. We're only too happy to help".
"Thanks officers" you replied.
But this only served to anger them and waste their time.
Not only had you
not been stabbed, but there was also no stab-ee. No. Because the whole thing was done by a phantom.
So after no evidence had been bought forward and after much time had been wasted the (un)real IRA managed to set off one of their most powerful & elite bombs.... 'KABOOM' it went.
Leaving one of the police officers (P.C shittington) with a pair of beshitted undercrackers and a face red as a poker. So embarrassed was he by this spectacle?
