scs Fairy Tales

By Authors Unknown

A Fairytale for SCS

The good fairy surveyed the wreckage that was SCS with an exasperated snort. The tension had built quickly, and now it had snapped, with the whiplash producing several casualties. There hadn't been any mental health evaluations for several months, and 3 posters were booked in for them at the same time.

It had all started so promisingly as well, with a new poster in town. Marilyn had definitely added something different to the group. Somehow she embodied everything the men in the group thought a woman should be; she was variously coquettish, demure and cerebral. In short she was exactly how 'a woman who says she won't, but looks as though she might' would appear in print.

The temperature had risen quickly, glands that had not been in use for years had creaked into action, and squeezed out a few drops of testosterone. The menfolk were carrying out their traditional usenet courtship rituals. Mostly these started by trying to prove they were more erudite, cultured and intelligent than their peers. That usually lasted about two posts, before they became crotchety and threatened someone. There were some positive results though. Two posters who had been feuding for the last ten years, over a bag of pandrops, had formed an alliance when it looked like they were no longer in contention.

The distaff side had maintained a disdainful silence. Despite that, they appeared surprisingly well-informed about how the virtual chest-thumping was progressing. The situation came to a head when the good Doc requested a photo of Marilyn for the SCS Informer. The photo duly arrived, and this was it :- http://blogs.reuters.com/photo/files/2008/01/hells-angel.jpg

You see Marilyn was really a big hairy biker from Hastings having a bit of fun at SCS expense. Once this news got out SCS beat the retreat. In the process they surpassed the previous British record held by Johnny Cope. Posters had known all along, they had played along for fun, they had never really been interested, and they were only being welcoming to a newbie.

The ultimate betrayal for two of the posters wasn't that Marilyn had the wrong bits though. As eyesight dims that's an easy mistake to make. Several of the posters had been there before. No the biggest issue was not that they had been made a fool of, but that they had been made a fool of by an *nglishman. The fairy knew the group would survive. It would drag itself onward and face another year, a bit more cynical, but very little wiser.

Already there were promising signs, only that morning the cry had rung out, "...and where's my pandrops?"