Too late...
When I was a wee nipper, my family made futile efforts to be religious around Christmas time. Foolish behaviour in hindsight. So off we'd trot to the church for Mass on Xmas eve. Being around 5 years old, I found the idea of sitting on cold, hard benches in the middle of the night as a little unnecessary, especially when Santa was due to drop by any second, so my Mum bribed me with lots and lots of sweets which I yummed up.

After what felt like an eternity of droning by the vicar, the service finally finished and there was a general stampede for the exit. It was at this point that I, following 3 packets of wine gums hoovered down in quick succession, proudly declared to my parents that I was going to be sick. I had turned a funny shade of green to back up this exclamation, and I prepared to blow... (fnaar!)

Dad immediately hoisted me onto his shoulders and did his best to push and shove through the congregation of God botherers amassing at the exit with limited success. All he succeeded in doing was getting me right into the middle of the group where I passed the point of no return.

VOMCANO!!!

I projectiled over at least 20 people from my elevated perch. Multicoloured, half-digested chews scattered in a wide arc, accompanied by what can only be described as a wave of pink milk. It was like a camp version of the Exorcist.

I wasn't invited back. Forgive thy neighbour my arse.
(Mr Fudge It shouldn't be illegal to have sex with an eagle, Fri 2 Sep 2011, 10:28, 1 reply)

This gets a click from me :)
Firstly, for VOMCANO!

Secondly, for "a camp version of the Exorcist"

And thirdly, coz it made me do a little lol :D
(Professor Kenny Martin Hmm? What?, Fri 2 Sep 2011, 15:02, closed)