The History of the dammed. And Unfortunate.
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Place: Gran Canaria, off the coast of Spain.
History Will Remember: Kevin Pridham, Steve Burrows, Chris Dunham, Adam, A.N.Other, copius amounts of Vodka.
What Happened?
It is approaching the middle of a baking hot afternoon on the holiday island of Gran Canaria. In a large Hotel complex, several floors above sea level, 5 young men indulge themselves with a couple of relaxing drinks and a spot of music. All is well, until the now infamous words "Russian Buckarro" are mentioned in passing by one of the main protaganists (information regarding who is unavailable).
A rough tanslation of Russian Buckaroo is basically another term for "Lets see how much one person can drink before he / she vomits". In much the same way the child's board game "Buckaroo" operates.
In the gaggle of laughter about the game and it's point, one volunteer bravely stepped forward from out of the shadows. His name: Kev. His mission: To get drunk. Very, VERY drunk.
And so it began, bottles of cheap lager were followed by more cheap bottles of lager. Progress was slow and only a mild state of tipsiness was in evidence, that was until the dirty Vodka was produced, and the whole game took a sinister twist.
Shot, after shot, after shot. Kev bravely battled the Demon Vodka in a battle of Man versus Potato-related beverage. Kev was showing a valiant contempt for the paint-stripping liquid and the battle seemed to be going Man's way. People laughed and joked, shunning Vodka and it's seemingly weak powers, but then, it started to go horribly, horribly wrong.
Kev was beginning to show signs of drunkeness; his speech was slurring whilst there was a tell-tale bulge on his once washer-board like stomach. The booze was on the ofensive and clogging Kev's liver full of dirty alcohol; most of which was simply too much for his masculine body to handle. Even worse was to follow when signs of straining were apparnt on his now taught face.
It had been half-an-hour since the battle began and Kev was now in dire straits. A bin was placed next to his seat on the balcony, whilst he gripped an empty Pringles can tighter and tighter, still determined not to let the booze win. A crowd of at least 4 were watching the momentus ruck and witnessing courage beyond words. What had started as a man's contempt for dirty boze had now become a lesson in self restraint and bladder control.
Through clentched teeth, Kev stil smiled at all four of his adoring fans, who were now on tenterhooks, waiting for a lapse in concentration. Kev put on a brave face and poured a filled a half-pint full of his enemy, the dirty Vodka.
With a sly grin, he raised his glass. staring directly into the onlooking videocamera, he pierced the lens with his drunken and slightly glazed-over eyes. He raised his glass further, and with a deep breath, he boomed:
"THIS ENDS NOW!!"
Gulping down the half-pint of vodka, he strained at the overwhealming need to blow chunks. He was a God, and Adonis if you like, but then it happened....
1 minute passed, then another, and still it flowed. Kev's face had become redder than Satan's arse whilst his eyes were crying like a baby, yet still, he laughed. He laughed even when the flow of vomit turned a sickening red until it became clear that blood was something that shouldn't really be coming out of his mouth in such volumes. If at all.
Mild amusment was begining to turn to horror as the blood kept flowing, but as soon as it had began, it stopped. Much to the relief of Kev and the crowd of four. kev had beaten the dirty alcohol and walked away from the bouth with nothing even close to resembling a hangover. Man had once again triumphed.