A group of unique "superheroes" that can overcome most situations...


THE CRIMSON UNDERCHIN (aka Conor Spelman)
-The ability to increase the size of his underchin
-The ability to make people sorta wanna go home
-The ability to be decent at guitar

CAPTAIN THINTOOTH (aka Pete Henderson)
-The ability to remove people's clothes
-The ability to stop moving bicycles
-The ability to spread deadly STD's

BIRDMAN (aka Doug Memery)
-The ability to talk to birds
-The ability to kill flying insects
-The ability to break anything down to smaller notes and change
-The ability to can a situation

CHESTY (aka Conor Minton)
-The ability to climb really well
-The ability to uncan a situation
-The ability to dance in order to calm people down




this is what happens when you leave us in a garden alone all day in Biarritz

I pissed him off. Pissed him off good. I don't know what sent him over the edge. Maybe it was my off-color, sacreligious sense of humour. Whatever it was, one thing is clear - the great skyfairy wants hardcore vengeance, and he wants it now. Let's educate you on whats happened so far. If you don't want to read, I'll summarise it for you in the next two words.

Get lost.
Wednesday 4th.

I wake up at 4:30am feeling like my kidneys hijacked bulldozers and went apeshit on my abdomen. I assume I am either really fuck hungry, or constipated to the max. I stumble to the kitchen, grab a peach, take a dump, and go back to bed. I feel slightly better.

I wake up again at 6:30. Something's definitely up. My kidneys; unsatisfied with the carnage caused by bulldozers; have commandeered tanks and started burning down the Reichstag that is my middle half. I am in serious pain. In my infinite wisdom, I decide to ignore it, still thinking I might just be hungry or constipated.

It's now 10:30. Screw university, I'm not going; not while my organs are having a civil war. I drive up to the medical center and take a seat. "There'll be a two hour wait - the doctors running late," she says. I'm in severe pain by now.

It's 11:30. Sitting up is getting unbearable. I ask to lie down on a bed somewhere, and the receptionist lady obliges. Angry geriatrics envy my special treatment. I feel powerful.

...



It's 12:00 or sometime, when bang. Holy mother fuck of shit. Raw, intense pain. Someone just Nagasaki'ed my bowel. A doctor comes in and watches me writhe in pain. He asks, "Are you ok?" I reply, "My stomach is on fire." He pushes on my abdomen, then my lower right abdomen. I nearly go catatonic and grip his hand. Wup-wow.

Maybe ten minutes later I'm in an ambulance with a morphine needle in my bum. Morphine is great. I remembered the old people's faces of disgust at my special treatment. It makes me smile. All is good in the world.

I rock up to hospital. A doctor comes and assesses me. He is not happy. He has a monobrow though, so I need not respect him. I get more drugs. I go to sleep.

I wake up and its night. Monobrow tells me they've called in the surgeon from dinner with her husband to do emergency surgery on my appendix which has ruptured and caused perotonitis. 10% mortality rate in healthy patients. Good, I like a challenge.

I am prepped for surgery. Nurses wheel me into the operating theatre late that night. Just before my bed enters the operating room, an attending stops me. She says they havn't done the pre-check on my details. She checks my wrist band. It says Mrs Finch, Jessica. "Mrs Finch, Jessica" has no allergies. Lucky her. I on the other hand, am deathly allergic to penicillin. Penicillin had been put on my treatment schedule. They take another ten minutes to correct things. My confidence is not great. My last words to the attending doctors is, "I'm glad someone knows what they're doing." I recognise a monobrow above one of the attending's masks. I smile. I don't even feel the anasthethic. I go to sleep.

...

Thursday 5th.

I wake up early in the morning. It is around 5am. I feel sleepy as shit. Someone is standing above me. It takes me a few seconds to make sense of the face. It's an ex-girlfriend's mum wearing a nurses uniform. Then it hits me.

She's going to smother me with a pillow...fuck

My eyes close again and I fall back asleep. I had survived. Boy was I on a roll.

It's 9am. The operating doctor comes to see me. She says she removed widespread infection covering my entire mid section with a particularly bad infection in parts of my abdomen and kidney. Apparently, my left kidney was displaced so as to be directly adjacent to the perforation where the infection originated. Smooth move God you cunning bastard. Luckily for me, my other kidney was having a picnic up north during the whole ordeal. You're fault for giving me two you sneaky son of a bitch.

12 hours from death she estim

Fiona. As bent as a bad hedge. No room at the inn, Fiona? I wonder why. Is it because you suck lodez. PERRRRRRRRobably.

Fiona rhyms wi .... NOTHING!