AUGUST DICKHEAD (Part 3)

Oh, you didn't know a Round 3 was coming?
Alright, go on remind yourselves what happened.
Part 1 here and Part 2 here.
Go on then read on...

Playground Dickhead

Look, Chris dressed up and everything.

Notting Hill Carnival is an amazing place. Buses become sound systems on wheels, cops become dance partners, and these guys, well, these guys become Dickheads. I hope you ain't forgotten what Rich did this time last year.

As soon as these guys jumped off Notting Hill Station, they started hitting the drinks. Sainsbury's Basics Malted Scotch Whiskey was the poison of choice on that rainy bank holiday. Chris planned on getting drunk beyond comprehension, he must have been, just before backing his first shot he pauses to make Deeby and Rich say these words...

“Chris, no matter how fucked you get today, I will make sure you get home safe and I will not leave you, I promise.”

For the record, Sainsbury's Basics Malted Scotch Whiskey tastes horrendous, nevertheless, Chris backed most of it before 2:00.

Beyond the usual drunken walking, drunken dancing and drunken “I love you man” statements, it soon became apparent. "Chris. You're drunk beyond comprehension." Deeby would exclaim. Chris would chuck on his shades in a "Deal with it" fashion. Raybans. Two hundred quid. The Showoff.
Chris' first low moment came when the gang decided to stop marauding girls dressed as peacocks for five minutes and have a sit down.

In a similar vein to Cons' nomination earlier this month, they were on a bench in a children's playground. Chris has tonnes of energy so he attempts to befriend complete strangers. He gives them the middle finger as they walk away. He has a go on the monkey bars, then he's disappointed 'cos he's way too tall. He finds logs sprouting out of the floor for children to use then he pretends to hump one.

Yes, there's video evidence. No, you can't see it because, yes, it's way too NSFW for this website.

CUT OUT Dickhead

It's a habit. A bad habit. One that's got him nominated before. The habit has its own friggin' anecdote. But no one expected it to happen at the Notting Hill carnival and certainly not like this.

Jungle is Massive!

Chris was spinning faster that the turn table and General Levy was describing his world.

“Wicked. Wicked. Jungle is Massive!”

...And packed full of people it looked like. Once you were in the heart of the crowd, moving anywhere else was a bit of a challenge. When you're drunk beyond comprehension, personal space doesn't exist and moving about is easy.

Knocking, thumping and bumping his way through the labyrinth of flesh and concrete, Chris gets comfortable swaying sideways like a toddler figuring out how to dance. Deeby and Rich are going ham.

Deeby was wearing Chris' shades and treating them like they were his.  When they weren't on his face they were hung from his collar. When they weren't on his collar they were hung from his mouth. When they weren't in his mouth they were on the face of some random he decided to grind with.

And then, of course, the stupidly inevitable happened. He dropped them. No hanging about, he lunges to pick them up. Inches away from reaching it, some raver kicks them away. Deeby chases after it only to find himself slouched in front of Chris.

“Huh?” Chris wonders he's doing down there. “NO!” Chris figured out what he's doing down there. Another raver kick the shades further away. They chase it. Knocking, thumping and bumping their way through the labyrinth of flesh and concrete, eyes glued to the shades, they eventually merge into the landscape of muddy Air Max's, Vans and Converses.

Chris weren't taking this well, he really liked those glasses. Deeby gave up looking for them after 10 mins. Rich joined in for a little while. Chris was at it for an hour. Rich is blaming it on the Sainsbury's Basics Malted Scotch Whiskey.

Deeby, beyond apologetic, did not expect to see them again. Shock horror; Chris found them. Like they should have expected, Chris found them in pieces. After making several attempts to runaway and be alone, Chris was sat weeping about them for another hour... it became evident his mission was accomplished. Chris was drunk beyond comprehension.

Drunk beyond comprehension

Concerned that he may never get over them, Rich and Deeby bump into old friends and say a quick hello. They turn back to see Chris' latest attempt to runaway and be alone had been successful.

“Where'd he go?”
“Fuck knows. Ring him.”

“I can't my phone's outta juice.”

“So's mine.”

“I had my eyes off him for 10 seconds... if that.”

“We broke our promise, bro.”

“Did we break our promise... Or did Chris cut out?”

Chris Cut Out... The Dickhead.