The Communal Story Thread

"By the eckers" squealed Davo, as his fall was broken....

"I've gone and got Pie and Mash all down my leather dungarees, it'll take me hours to clean that off!

Unfortunately, his pangolin shaped butt plug had now been pushed firmly inside his ass, and had disappeared completely, strangely enough he didn't seem to notice.

He waddled off to the launderette, whistling YMCA happily as he went on his way....
 
In typical scouse fashion Davo signed himself off sick. The lazy feck. Reduced to trying to finance his up-coming wedding with Giros and proceeds from dodgy ebay deals Davo spiralled into depression and fled to the grape for solice....
 
"Livvie! What are you doing in my dreams?" Davo cried out in his sleep, unconsciously twitching his butt plug.
 
I notice things have gone awry in my absence, with rules 1, 4 and 5 in particular being more or less ignored...cnuts

Right, everyone who's been in it so far piles back to Redcharlie's house, where they find him boning a bird with absurdly long legs...and a tache...
 
Right lads, says Redcharlie, rising breathlessly from the backseat of the 122 double decker and untangling himself from the longest, most svelte pair of legs imaginable. You've seen my gaff and half the joys of south of the river, but hang around here any longer and the rent collector aka, the bus conductor'll be on your case. Which was actually spoken more to Big Andy and Weaste, rather than 26, Davo and Devilish, as the former pairing were leaning over the back seat so far they were sniffing my lady's twitching tootsies. Noticing that Davo seemed more interested in landmarking casinos and greyhound tracks, 26 remembered Stan. Where is the southern cnut when you need him, eh ( pronounced aye)? he cried. And that foodie cnut, Spin?
And so at the next bus stop, we clamber as one out of my gaff, with my svelte long-legged beauty in tow, whom we shall call erm, Sky, on account of her pins and keeping an eye on Weaste, who is throwing some Spanish her way ( knowing that RC can't understand a word) and Andy, who is pretending to be tired and walking several feet behind her with a furtive, lecherous grin, we make for north of the river, to seek out the elusive Plek and his half-built arch.
 
"look" says Redcharlie "over there a giant half built arch," far away in the distance
 
That's Monument, you dork! We're on course tho, I know the Plek is north. Not north as most of the tried and trusted on here know it, I'm talking north of the river Thames.......home to the batty boys, wealthy arabs and punters who haven't got a baldy about footy.
 
But before they could track Plech down and slagg off his arch, they all conked out due to being massive lightweights, and woke up in Skegness

Some cheeky fecker had shaved their pubes n all..and nicked their cash

And Charlie's bird was nowhere to be seen...
 
Correction, you'd been been told by retireantmobs that we were in sarfend........he was talking southside. We're moving north and on your case, big lad. My chick firmly in tow, despite the attentions.
 
fecking hell, who who'da guessed it.......the Plek has been tacked to a laptop using streaker in Hyde park.............he's legging it quickstyle towards the Serp......the streaky,pervy fecker........
 
Alright then, as you seem intent on leading me and my Sky northwards, including the shower who post here, to Skeggy.........we all know where he's heading for and it aint Barnsley. He still hasn't got over his dream of dancing nimbly round Davo, has the wordy cnut? Bring on Davo, I say,..........realtime.
 
And the 6 Northern poofs legged it after Plech, along the banks of a nameless river somewhere in poofland... the object of their pursuit frantically shaving his scrotum while simultaneously trying to save himself from being buggered by Weaste, devilish, paz, devilish, gaz and 26, not to mention lonely charlie back down south, and Davo and his armadillos somewhere in deepest Wales
 
Quit copping out Plech............it's within Davo's reach and there's one almighty rumble in the jungle in the offing.
Get training mate, The Nottingham Knobbler versus Plech The Wordy Cnut.


Laydeees and genellmen, get ready to rumble...........
 
I'm not sure I like the direction this thread's taking...ie me pegging it to avoid having my balls shaved by a load of gaylords

Then Plech magically disappears and never comes back...the others bicker all the way back to the capital where they take turns taking Charlie's bird up the London Eye...
 
Nice try, Plek. The northern possee who've supported you long and hard are'nt about to quit now. I'm a generous guy...........the winner is entitled to place my new birds legs behind her head prior to me getting as we say'casual'.
But you best get training.
The North have suffered long and hard.

I've a hunch Davo is training harder.
Ok.......no twisting fingers into the temple and girly stuff like that allowed.

I'm the ref, unless i"m working, in which case its the first of three:

1.Stanley

2. Rams

3. 26 (Hj in reserve)
 
Charlie's disqualified for repeatedly breaking all the clearly codified rules

Our heroes, however many there are, are sitting in Hyde Park, chewing the cud (or at least Spin's chewing the cud, the others have brought packed lunches, and Weaste's banging one out), when suddenly...

- No sneaking in there mind you Charlie, remember you're banned
 
I reckon Davo is a bit smaller, more bulky and powerful, more a mere Marvin Hagler.

You being United, keep him at reach.........use the jab, Plek.......wear him down, ala Lennox............don't get drawn in close too early.

We're with you, mate.

Good luck.
 
kin useless - you killed it before it even had a chance to start

I'll make a supreme effort

Slightly disappointed by the rapid disappearance of partial meat product, the intrepid Caffers pricked up their ears to the sound of a bunch of scouse fans singing the song that they nicked from Celtic... "Alright you lot," shouted Stan, "which one of you was a hoolie in the 80s?"
 
He squares up to the offending scally, who looks to Davo for help...but Davo's suddenly remembered he has a conference call to take, up a tree, and is unable to defend his club's honour on this occasion...
 
But lo and behold! the fart that had been threatening to bust Davo's pangolin butt-plug finally escaped, showering the scouse shower of shite with shite, blasting Stan into the Serpentine, and incidentally catapulting Davo into the bushes where he briefly interrupted a 3 way gay spit roast.
 
Youre better than this Plech. Trying to start the scrap when Davo isnt present. Keep at distance in the early rounds.
Wear him down.
I'm starting to worry about your tactics..........I'm starting to think of a first round KO..........to Davo.
C'mon Plech......we're watching mate.
Get feckin skippin.
Think reach.
 
Stan charges like a rutting rhino out the Serpentine and brushes himself down...Davo seems preoccupied with the roasting...Stan advances on the hapless Scouser...it is DJS...Stan goes for a windmill-headbut-kick in the balls combination, but lo and behold, Syd is protected by a forcefield of warped logic...Stan looks baffled...Syd follows up with a sustained boredom attack...Stan looks a beaten man - OUCH Syd finishes him off with a painful yawn-rolleyes-wink smilie combo...it's all over, Stan lies unconscious, and Weaste, ever the opportunist, sneaks in and spunks in his supine face...
 
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