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Whoops... I just spiked my Mum with acid

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Submitted by JoeyG at 2006-08-11 10:11:35 EDTRating: 1.63 on 33 ratings (33 reviews) ( Review this item ) ( V Ah, precious memories.The care free, happy-go-lucky days of pre-adolescence. So, so innocent.The emotional rollercoaster that is puberty. The fun of squeezing those zits onto the bathroom mirror will always remain with me.And, er, the drug induced mayhem that was my late teens and early twenties. Precious memories...... at the least the memories that I can still recall, anyway.My experiments into the world of heinous chemicals was short lived, and thank God they were. Because I dread to think of what would have happened had it continued. I left school at 16, got a job and rented my own apartment. I was free and independent. I ruled. Life was for living, and things had never seemed so good."OK, bye mum" I said showing her out of the apartment door - I had given her a key, because my washing machine had broken down, and she used to pick up my laundry (The washer was fine really - I just couldn't be assed to do it, so it seemed like a good excuse).As she left, I got straight on the phone to my friend Rich."Dude, coast is clear. Did you get 'em??""Yeah, I got 'em! Be right over"When he arrived, I let him in, and as always he went straight to my refrigerator, pulled out the bottle of coke and proceeded to drink straight from the bottle."Rich you fucker, will you stop being a disgusting slore, I gotta drink that shit too""Hey, lighten up"Same old Rich. After killing his thirst, he pulled out the baggie. It contained a sheet of paper, covered in small pictures of Super Mario."Dude, sweet. Tonights gonna be a real fuckaroo!!" I said. I'd done acid before, but I'd heard these ones were the real good shit. We went out, took one each, and slowly but surely, reality became a distant memory. This was way beyond any acid I took before. Rich actually had a half hour conversation with his own reflection in a shop window. The visuals seemed like something from another dimension.But, what comes up must go down..... I spent the next 3 days feeling like Spacey the Space Cadet from Spaceville. I vowed never to touch the stuff again.1 week later, I was round Rich's place, talking shit and shooting the breeze as normal. It was about 10 in the morning, and was washing down my breakfast of Maccy D with a mug of coffee."Hey, Rich, what's these 2 bits of paper at the bottom of my coffee?". Realisation dawned. "You motherfucking asshole............."My further curses were drowned out by the laughter from Rich and his stupid little bitch kid brother. I spent the next 24 hours contemplating serious fucking revenge. I was gonna get that dipshit back soooooooooo bad.And then my chance came. A few days later, I was back round Rich's, seeming like I'd forgiven him for pulling that stunt. He had a pair of socks balled up, ready to put on, just laying on the side. I'd heard somewhere that acid can soak in through the skin. So I took the 4 tabs I had procured, and slid them into one of the socks.He put them on, and sure enough, about an hour later, his fat old feet had started to sweat, and his open pores were slurping up the juice from the surprise I had set for him. He started bitching about a headache, and I couldn't hold back on telling him what I did. His facial expression was worth it! I don't know how much effect it had, but it was good enough that he pulled the same shit back on me a few weeks later.I woke up after passing out at a party, and went to the bathroom to splash my face with cold water. I looked up into the mirror, and 6 of the bastards were sellotaped to my forehead. Great. I've got a hangover that could sedate a rhino, and a shit load of acid seeping straight into my brain.I flipped. I spent 2 days tripping my face off, but the good thing about LSD is that it gives you some twisted thoughts. Torture sprang to mind. I conjured up a whole bunch of shit that I could do to get this bastard back. But my train of thought was cut of with the inevitable come down.Then one day I woke up, with a clear mind, went into my kitchen and pulled the coke out of the fridge.The coke.The fridge.That son of a bitch Rich.Bingo.I went out and bought 10 Super Marios. The devil on my shoulder had a grin like a judge in a blow job contest. I screwed up the blotters, and slipped them into the last third of the bottle of coke in the fridge. "I'll get you, you punk ass motherfuck...."Went to the phone. Rang Rich."Yo Rich, fancy some cards tonight. Got a crate of beer that's calling out to be drunk""Yeah, what the hell. I'll be over about 7"Bait taken. Plan laid. He'd come waltzing through my door, go straight to the fridge and start chugging my coke, same as ever. I had to smile at the brilliance of my trap.I took a shower, and as I was getting out heard the front door open and my mum call out her usual greeting."Hey, only me, just come to get your laundry""Sure thing ma, I'll be right out"I finished getting dressed, and went into the living room to see my mum."I hope you don't mind son, I helped myself to a glass of coke"Alarm bells ringing."Er, Mum, you don't wanna drink that, it's been there for ages, I should have thrown it out.......""Too late hun, I was real thirsty. I drank it already. Tasted fine to me."More alarm bells. What the fuck have I done?"Er, any plans today ma??""Yeah, this is only a quick visit. I need to drive down to the coast and see your Aunt. She's not well you know, you should write her once in a while"She was gonna drive? I had to do something. Something fast. The magic 8-ball had thrown up a big "you're fucked on this, pal".I let her out the door, waited for her to disappear round the corner, then followed. I walked on the other side of the road, and by ducking between the parked cars managed to overtake her, and get back to her place about 5 minutes before she did. I flipped the hood of her car, and started pulling wires out. My Mum couldn't tell the difference between a spark plug and a sandwich, there's no way she could fix it. Not in the state she was about to be in.I went back to my apartment, writhing in the guilt of what I had done. As I walked through my door, the phone was ringing. I recognised the number from caller display."Hi Mum. You ok, thought you were going down to the coast""Some punk kids have screwed my car over, doesn't look, like I'm going anywhere""Hey that's heavy mum. You just stay in and take it easy, ok"5 minutes later, I got another call."Hi Mum, you ok""Some punk kids have screwed my car over""You just told me that""What? No I didn't. I just got back, the car wouldn't start, I lifted the hood, and there were wires all over the place"I got 33 telephone calls from my mum that day, all telling me that some punk kids had screwed her car over. I dread to think what was going through her mind, but to this day, she still thinks she just "had a real funny turn that day".Kids - Don't do drugs.