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Awful Things

June 14, 2009

After World/Inferno, Keto and I got a call from the bloke we were supposed to be meeting at the W/IFS show.

“Lets get really drunk, guys, just had the worst night of my life!”

Seems he’d been in holding at a psych eval clinic for the past seven hours – one of the hardcore ones where signing up for the assessment is the same as signing a statement saying “until proven otherwise, I’m too crazy to be sufficiently mentally fit to sign myself out”. As in they have security who’ll sedate you if you try and peace, apparently. Regardless, we met up with him at his room and he cheerfully told us he’d just been diagnosed as one of the varieties of schizophrenic. Despite likely being a very bad idea, we decided that getting very drunk was definitely the best temporary solution.

He certainly joined Keto & I’s ambition of causing mayhem with a gusto, and we set out to explore U of T campus.

We started off at a funny little set of benches next to a path, overlooking a large hill.  There were still pathmaking supplies lying about, and we decided those were much better suited to being at the bottom of the hill rather than the top, and helped them along that way.  We figured that the large manhole cover at near the bottom of the hill would be a perfect target.  Keto and I couldn’t hit shit, but Crazy had uncanny aim with a brick.  The manhole made some pretty amusing “bong” noises whenever he hit it.

We then explored a local construction site and rearranged tools and lumber in more aesthetically pleasing arrangements – “can we make these odds and ends look like a cock?” being the guiding design ethos of the evening.  We succeeded, but against photos for fear that the flash would give us away.

From there, we moved into the Works Yard, where Crazy nearly made Keto and I shit ourselves by climbing into a Bobcat and then playing with the horn; we thought he’d set off the alarm, and Keto and I had made it halfway down the driveway out before the horn stopped and Crazy nigh on fell out of the cab laughing hysterically.

Strolling hence from there, we were immediately entranced by the Athletics Arena at UofT.  We hopped the fence and explored the groups, prowling all over the track and well up the bleachers.   We tried to talk Crazy into shitting on the track but he was having none of it.  We tried to get into the pressure-inflated dome in the middle, bailing out in a panic when we saw through the window in our door, upon trying the handle, all the LEDs on all the other doors around the dome turned from green to red.

We decided the best place to hide – obviously – was the adjacent construction site.  We climbed up onto the under-construction roof and chilled there for a while, drinking more, cracking jokes, and trying to play javelins with the tools left up there onto the lawn four stories below.  (Note: shovels fly well, rakes do not.)  In time we decided security weren’t approaching immenantly, and crept hence from the building.  Crazy played around in some more construction equipment while Keto and I stole him a “DANGER Due To ________” sign.  Crazy caught up, swiped himself one as well, and we kept wandering.  We spent some time tossing odd objects over a fence, Keto and I tag-teaming to get large shit over; and Crazy took off ahead, pilfering one of those silver bowls used as the ashtray top to rubbish bins.

He cut arouna corner while Keto and I launched into a discussion of what our “panic code” was should we run into an ugly situation, settling on “Cheese It” as the best bet while heaving a large metal garbage bin over the fence to an immensely satisfying “BONNGGGGG” noise as it landed.  We ducked around the corner to catch up to Crazy only to find a bloke who was definately not Crazy holding the ashtray dish and the sign, talking into a radio…

“So… I need security to building [XYZ], we got three guys here, fuckin’ around.  Hey you guys – quit fuckin’ around!”

From me, “Sure thing, chief” and from Keto “CHEESE IT!”

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