Friday, 4 May 2018

The Tragic Tale of Alfie Ballcock

Life should have been a bowl of cherries for Alfie Ballcock, but alas, fate had other ideas in store. Alfie wasn’t the brightest, indeed he was generally considered to be entirely without talent or ability, until the day he dived head first into the chlorine blue of his local municipal swimming pool.

With a natural grace he glided shark-like through the water, amazing all who had the good fortune to witness. Finally, Alfie had found his calling. Word quickly spread of the incredible fellow who could complete an entire length without taking a breath, in less time than it took to start the stopwatch. Alfie soon came to the attention of a prominent swimming coach, who earmarked him as a future Olympic star in the making.

A time trial was organised and, as expected, he aced the minimum requirements for entry to the British team. But while the coach and his family cheered and exchanged high fives, no one reminded poor Alfie to get out of the pool, and too tired to tread water any longer, he sank like a stone.

Eventually, someone noticed the forlorn figure lying on the bottom. An ambulance was summoned, and they dragged Alfie out and performed mouth to mouth in the hopes of keeping him alive. When he coughed up a lungful of water they thought perhaps there was a chance he may live. Rushed to hospital, he was placed in an intensive care ward.

The nurse on duty that fateful day decided to give Alfie a bath, as he smelled overpoweringly of chlorine. But while she got distracted, chatting on Facebook to a fellow who’d sent photos of his cock, Alfie slid beneath the surface for the second time that day.

By the time she pulled him unconscious from the tub, exposure to so much warm water had caused Alfie to shrink, and he was now roughly the same size as a Star Wars figure. This made things easier for the hospital, as instead of taking up a whole bed, Alfie was so small his comatose body could be laid out on a slice of thick, white bread on the nurse’s desk.

But one last tragedy lay in wait. A consultant gynaecologist, in a rush to look at a woman’s minge, mistook Alfie for a sausage sandwich, and after dowsing him with ketchup, ate poor Alfie whole.

Thus ended yet another story of what might have been, if only people weren’t such fucking idiots.

On hearing of Alfie’s misfortune, God saw that a chance to unleash a shining star of joy upon a miserable, grey world had been missed, and he decided to set things straight. He dispatched his heavenly entourage to visit Alfie’s brother Stan, to bestow upon him the great gifts so sadly wasted on his sibling.

“Do you want to become a world champion swimmer?” The Archangel Gabriel asked Stan.

“No,” Stan replied. “Do I fuck.”

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