| Report for Nic D | |
|---|---|
| Approved stories | 2 |
| Summary | Perfectly Exquisite |
As large a group as possible would gather round deaf-child and speak animatedly in mime to each other. Frustration growing, he would tap people and ask them earnestly "What are you saying? What? What?", his voice growing weaker and more pathetic to everyone's great amusement. On really special days, when the gods were smiling, deaf-child would frenetically adjust his farcically over-sized ear piece, and with astute comic timing, everyone would begin shouting at the top of their voices, pretending not to notice his confused squirmings. This may seem cruel, but he was a pikey little bastard.
A boy who was big, mono-syllabic, and, more importantly, easy to run away from. We would gather as many people as we could (preferably really small kids who are themselves the victims of incessant abuse - this made more of an impact) and approach the said person. There would follow a rousing chorus of "Oy! Tweedle-Dum! Chase me, chase me..." After a while of this sort of thing, a rumbling would begin, deep in the ground, as this fat, fat monster would rise from his seat. In epic, slow-motion movements, that would often be accompanied by a rousing chorus of "Also Sprach Zarathustra" he would give terrifying chase, causing everyone to scatter easily out of his path.