The little boy’s conker
Posted in Blog by Twenty Major on September 28th, 2007
The small boy passed the horse chesnut tree every day on his way to school. Despite the bag on his back being rather too heavy for him and putting him in danger of toppling backwards when he chose to look up at the tree he did so each morning.
There, on a branch which was way too high for him to ever hope to throw a stick or a stone, was a conker that almost glowed. As the days went by this conker became an obsession for him. He would try and knock it down from the tree but his arms were too weak and his aim was off.
He wanted it though. It spoke to him. He knew it would be the most champion conker of all time and garner him the respect of the playground. One windy Friday morning he stood looking up, wishing the conker would fall, and lo and behold it didn’t. But lying there was a stick which he took and vainly threw in its direction. Perhaps it was a combination of adrenalin and the wind (and possibly the Ready Brek he’d had for breakfast) but the stick flew straight up and dislodged the tree testicle from its branch.
He couldn’t believe his luck and couldn’t wait for school to finish that day. When it did he took the conker home and sat looking at it at the kitchen table. It was almost perfectly round and he could almost see his face in it when he looked. He knew he had the best conker in the world. Now he had to ensure it was even better.
Consulting the schoolboy manual of conker legend he very carefully and painstakingly bored a hole through it with a screwdriver. Then he baked it in the oven for twenty minutes before leaving it sit for a full 24 hours in a cup full of brown vinegar. This would harden the surface but also strengthen any slight cracks he might have made when making the hole. He was thinking about using common twine but instead purloined a fine shoelace from a pair of his father’s Italian leather shoes. He pushed it through the hole and knotted the far end.
He spent the rest of the weekend practicing his swing and by Monday morning he could not wait to go to school. At the first short break the other boys took out their conkers.
‘Mine’s a 12-timer’, one would say.
‘Mine’s a 32-timer’, another would crow.
The little boy with his 0-timer took them all on and in 15 minutes he had become a 6-timer. The other boys were in awe of his awesome conker and word spread quickly about its power.
At lunch break he had beaten two more when he was punched in the side of his head and had his conker stolen by a larger boy from a more senior class. A boy he had no chance of getting his precious back from. It burned the little boy. He felt shame spread across his cheeks, his stomach flipped, the inability to do anything about it made his little brain rage. That rage never left him.
Now, 30 years later, as the older boy sat desperately trying to hold in his intestines as they spilt across the kitchen floor where his wife and children lay butchered, the little boy felt some kind of peace.
He also remembered he had to pick up milk and bread on the way home.
Cheers you piss parrot, was hoping for a cheerful post to start my weekend, off now to make someones life a misery in a meeting. And I will blame you for fucking ruining the Friday “mood”. And to cap it all I read that Scorsese is making a film about George Harrison..what a waste of everyones bastard time.
September 28th, 2007 at 9:39 am
Ah Twenty WTF was that?
September 28th, 2007 at 9:41 am
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It’s obvious Oilcan - Twenty was that little boy.
I knew this would happen - seen it before. Tormented man writes book, floodgates open, autobiographical details follow. Next he’ll be telling us about his courtmartial for having a deck of cards in chapel.
September 28th, 2007 at 9:51 am
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Well I have to say, I didn’t see that coming. That was fucking gunius.
September 28th, 2007 at 9:53 am
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Whoooaaa! There goes my Friday buzz.
One two three dot ie, just log on and save mon-ey
September 28th, 2007 at 10:29 am
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One two three dot ie, just log on and save mon-ey
You utter cunt.
September 28th, 2007 at 10:31 am
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How well did the conker do?
September 28th, 2007 at 10:43 am
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Yessss!
September 28th, 2007 at 10:53 am
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your story has a lovely cinematic quality to it, Twenty. i reckon you should approach these guys for funding - http://www.abc.tcd.ie
remember folks: no one benefits from bullying
September 28th, 2007 at 11:22 am
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remember folks: no one benefits from bullying>
bollix - I just bought my third wendy house from the proceeds of my dinner money extortion !
September 28th, 2007 at 11:34 am
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“no one benefits from bullying’
ahahaahhaah, no really ahahahah. Tell that to someone who DOESN”T have older sisters.
September 28th, 2007 at 11:44 am
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This is the place FMC - name names - it will be therapeutic!
September 28th, 2007 at 11:50 am
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Revenge is best served cold or so they say. Well in that case Maggot should have a long time to stew before he becomes fish food.
September 28th, 2007 at 11:55 am
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If I win the lottery Dave will be serving MacDaran Pate !
September 28th, 2007 at 12:04 pm
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I can’t do it Maggot! They’ll sense a ripple in the matrix and a chinese burn will mysteriously appear on my arm, possibly there will be some pinching and some one will surely tell my mother something I may or may not have done that I definitely don’t want her to know.
September 28th, 2007 at 12:50 pm
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If you win the lottery Lucky can provide assistance!
September 28th, 2007 at 1:04 pm
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These kind are my favourites, you sick fuck.
September 28th, 2007 at 2:57 pm
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How odd. I just had a dream about one of my childhood bullies. Living well is the best revenge.
September 28th, 2007 at 3:13 pm
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“tree testicle”
Ha! Lovely.
But then think what the little boy did to that tree testicle: vinegaring, baking, stringing and then trying to prove his was bigger and stronger than the other boys’. I put it to you that there were some issues there before the shaming conker theft, m’lud. Castration and impotency fears played out in the schoolyard with tree goolies and tumescent pride. It’s a common enough story. Some people hack their families to pieces, others become estate agents - the rage is the same.
September 28th, 2007 at 4:57 pm
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Living well is the best revenge
no it’s not - cornering them 70 years later when they are infirm and making them drink castor oil after padlocking their toilet door is far more satisfying.
September 28th, 2007 at 4:59 pm
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can i just say i havent bothered to read this blog coz its hard to scratch my bare arsehole with one hand and finger my latest sort with the other while typing, my comp keys smell very interesting! any one want to buy the keys..my sort or my scratching hand
September 28th, 2007 at 5:09 pm
20
‘These kind are my favourites, you sick fuck.’
what does that say about you?
Actually I like them as well.
What does that say about me?
September 28th, 2007 at 5:10 pm
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The sort and the keys board has gone, some irish jap guy who’s father being an alco left for japan when he heard sake was twice as strong as turps and cheaper bought them. malachy kwackonona wants now to meet Joan of arrgh or any female who likes to bathe in sand. my hole scratching hand is still up for sale
September 28th, 2007 at 5:33 pm
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What the hell is going on in this here comments section these days? Me nearves are the worse for it.
Never mind having read this post while hanging on a thread after being gutted by a part of ‘Mister Pip’. ” He felt shame spread across his cheeks, his stomach flipped, the inability to do anything about it made his little brain rage.” My eyes! My fragile person! Nice one mister writer man.
September 28th, 2007 at 7:13 pm
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Jesus and, indeed, Christ.
I’ll never look at a conker the same way again
September 28th, 2007 at 9:16 pm
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Twenty you’re nuts.
September 28th, 2007 at 9:21 pm
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Twenty isnt nuts but ive heard twenty actually has twenty nuts! gonad george he was known in sligo the land of the four bollock male, the females having three.
September 28th, 2007 at 10:49 pm
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Holy shit, Twenty, did you run out of gas? This is two stories. One is a good one, about a kid who had a conker but lost it. Good reading. But then apparently you had a gas pain or something, and fucked it up by murdering everyone. Is everything okay at home?
September 29th, 2007 at 9:05 am
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My feelings exactly.
September 29th, 2007 at 1:51 pm
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I like the stark narration in the last two paragraphs, and the final line is what clinches it. Great stuff.
September 29th, 2007 at 6:21 pm
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Top notch, Twenty.
Just the jolt I needed this morning.
October 1st, 2007 at 8:27 am
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Twenty you have some right brown noses on here, if you said the pope was a gay they would agree with you or disgree but applaud you for your greatness in saying it…pish not me! anyway keep up the terrific work you being doing.
October 1st, 2007 at 11:14 pm
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