Excellent stories.
Myself, my bro and a couple of mates went bobsleighing once. Only we swapped the sled for a 4 wheel Biffa bin, and the bobsleigh run for some steep cobbled streets in Durham city centre.
And we were very pissed. And more than a bit stoned.
The idea was to peg it down the hill pushing the bin, jump in once it had picked up speed, then yank the lid closed above us. Then, it was just a matter of fate where we ended up at the bottom, but it generally involved us all being violently flung out once we’d smashed into a kerb or wall.
After one particular go, we’d all been flung out as usual and were pissing ourselves laughing… only I noticed my bro was still lying on the deck completely motionless and didn’t look like he was breathing. We didn’t know if he’d hit his head or what, but we all started freaking out trying to figure out what to do. It was about 3am, no one else around, no mobiles to call for help. Frightening stuff.
The other massive problem was that earlier that afternoon, I’d been watching Neighbours – more specifically, the episode where Dr Karl Kennedy had performed a ballpoint pen tracheotomy on someone. And in my pissed/paranoid state I had genuinely convinced myself (and the others) that I was going to have to do that here.
We. Were. Shitting. Ourselves.
Luckily he came round in the style of the Pulp Fiction adrenalin shot before I could jab something in his throat but a lot of stuff flashed before my eyes that night like.
Sheesh.
