Man Tormented by Action Movie Poops Everywhere

Meow
Figgis, witness for the prosecution/lawyer for the defence

 

Man who was haunted by that bit in Top Gun where Goose dies ‘opened fire of bodily waste products on his cat, Figgis, during a rampant salad session’

  • Malcolm Soup, 62, suffered from regular bouts of diarrhoea after film
  • Former shoplifter was tormented by the 1986 movie starring Tom Cruise
  • Last October he threatened the Mayor of Stevenage, 40, with jar of rhubarb jam at nightclub
  • Court heard he wanted a large cheesecake from Dominos but they had run out
  • Wife Letitia returned home after he ate a rocket and spinach salad

 

A father of nine haunted by a movie scene openly farted on his cat before trying to take off his socks in a strange salad session, a court heard today.

Former shoplifter Malcolm Soup, 62, was still deeply tormented by a 1986 movie when he threatened the mayor of a nearby town with a homemade vegetable preserve last October.

He followed his cat into a bedroom at their family home in Hitchin, while brandishing the extended directors cut of the movie and shouted: ‘Sorry it’s come to this, I have the shits and I’m going to pebble-dash you.’

Figgis, who is a cat, escaped unharmed and managed to flee the home to get help but as he did so, Soup – who suffers from diarrhoea – ate a mixed leaf salad.

Minutes later, his wife of 30 years, Letitia, 60, arrived home and managed to stop the gas fumes spreading before calling police who ordered the evacuation of neighbouring properties.

It later emerged that Soup had threatened his cat with his irritable bowels in a desperate attempt to get him to leave the house so that he could eat a cheesecake in the property alone.

He had been tormented for more than 20 years after watching the 80’s blockbuster in which Anthony Edwards’ character hits his head on the cockpit canopy. The court heard he struggled to cope with the tragedy and his excess faeces and claimed that life without Goose ‘was not worth living anymore.’

The Crown Court heard how Soup had been drinking melted ice cream before he grabbed a feather duster– made at home using wood and steel – and used it in an attempt to order takeaway cheesecake from Dominos.

Prosecutor Craig Alopecia told the court: ‘Figgis walked from the bathroom into one of the bedrooms but was followed by the defendant.

‘The defendant said ‘sorry it’s come to this, I have the shits and I’m going to pebble-dash you.’ Figgis, an Iraq veteran and graduate of Lincoln University, could see a lettuce leaf and grabbed it with both hands but let go of it when he could smell raw sewage and heard a bang.’

Figgis then left the house to join the circus and Soup’s wife returned to home to be met with the smell of gas. Mr Alopecia added: ‘She got into the house through the back and could see the defendant had removed one sock.

‘She was able to pull on an extractor fan to stop the gas from escaping. The police then arrived and arrested the defendant. Five empty salad bowls were found and it was also found that a sock had been eaten.

‘The flammability level of faecal odour upstairs meant it would explode if there was any ignition present.

‘Eight nearby properties were evacuated and people were out of their houses for 17 weeks.’

 

The following day, police found one home-made jam in a freezer and a second pot hidden inside a washing machine. Both had been previously eaten.

Soup admitted threatening to destroy or damage property, having very bad gas, possessing an unseemly amount of fruit and vegetable preserve with intent to cause fear of violence and other peculiar offences.

His lawyer, Figgis the Cat, said in mitigation: ‘Meow.’

 

But the judge, being unable to understand a cat, jailed Soup for sixty two years after ruling that he was wasting a considerable amount of time and really should stop trying to blame the Tony Scott blockbuster for his strange fetish for pooping on animals.

Sentencing Soup, he said: ‘You damaged the cat’s mentality in such a way that he decided to represent you in court.

‘The two compotes that you made, one of which we know you used in circumstances that put another human being at quite serious risk of injury if not death. Why you made the jams is not entirely apparent as they can cheaply and easily be obtained at a local supermarket – but they created a real and present risk to those around you.

‘You are irritating, ugly and have a strange desire to poo everywhere, I am also keeping your cat away from you’

  • If you read to the end of this article you are probably in need of psychological help, so please call the Samaritans or visit their website.

Stupid Kitty

On my drive into work this morning I witnessed a peculiar scene. Sat on a pavement there were two cats, one black tom, one ginger. They were sat perhaps a few inches apart, facing each other, with a relaxed and comfortable posture. Not squaring up to each other. As I watched, the ginger tom raised one paw with his claws retracted and bopped the black tom round the face, directly below the eye. The black tom didn’t even flinch, he just flickered his eyes at his companion and remained motionless.

Cats are bloody weird. They must have secret lives.

Take this photo for example.

Cat Mafia
Cat Mafia

I was walking back to my car in the dark and was just saying goodbye to my friend when a cat slunk slowly past, between us and went and sat on the garden wall behind. About 30 seconds later a second cat followed suite, then a third joined them on the wall. As I took this photo, a fourth feline was skulking along the wall to join them. There was clearly some orchestrated plan behind this, some organised meeting of grey cats on this wall, at this time of night. Though I wouldn’t even try to guess what it is they were doing. A mafia crime family meeting, the Duchia cats awaiting the Corvioli’s for a major sitdown concerning the catnip trade in the region?

Positive

Stay positive, stay strong
Unyielding, unflinching
Or neutral, an even keel
Even slightly despondent but never negative
Down, despairing and distraught

Your chest barely moves as you sleep
I turned over and stopped
Paused, checked to hear you breathe
We’ll say it’s the nicotine

Withdrawal, the cleanse
The cold hard look in once bright
Eyes, fixed on you and reading right through
Every word, line, chapter, verse

To the core, seeing nothing more than
A stiff stone where a flame once burnt
Brighter than a thousand analogies
And shining like a tired metaphor

Breathe, stop, calm, control
Repeat, breathe, stop
Stock still, hand on heart
On hip, on the hilt of your sword

Wearing words as weapons
Without a shield of faith, fortune
Confidence or self belief
Attack is the best form of defence

Lean in, put your best foot first
And hope you don’t catch a glancing
Blow, little dancer
Cute as a cat yet far less fast

Intake, pause and open your mouth
Then realise that real eyes see real lies
And you really have nothing
Worth saying, that hasn’t been heard before
Wrote before, conveyed before

In far finer style than anything you could compose
Succinct, snappy sound bites
And quotes you could see
In calligraphy on a stone slate

Four hundred years from now
Yet your words will never be
Anything more than small spaces
On small bookshelves

Shown off by an aunt when she welcomes
A friend, for cake
Coffee and comforting words
About the latest little problems
In all our little lives

So breathe, stop, calm, control
Repeat, breathe
Stop

This Caught My Eye

I visited a local public hall this evening and noticed this sheet detailing fundraising progress.

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Now, first of all, good on them! It’s great that they’re raising money for their hall…
Secondly…WHAT THE HELL IS “guess the cat”?!?!

I have been wracking my brain over this all night (I know, you’d think that a thorough wrack of this peanut would take a mere minute). I have come up with several possible ideas.

1. Much like at a country fair where people guess the weight of a cake and then win aforementioned food, in Guess The Cat you must guess the weight of a feline. This could be made more challenging by choosing a long hair kitty like my Charlie Yowyow (pictured below, apparently confused by the bird feeder). However a ready supply of cats would be needed so as to gift the winner.

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2. Photos of “celebrity” moggies could be shown as a slide show in a quiz type setting, no conferring, no imdb. Famous cats such as…ummm…the one that was in the opening credits for Coronation Street or the one that used to live on Downing Street or…ummm…this seems like a slightly limited game.

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3. Fecal samples are taken from all of the participants cats, and by taken I don’t mean manually extracted, and presented in a litter box. The participants must pay £1, guess which shit belongs to their cat and the winner gets…see i’m out of ideas again! I can’t imagine that people would pay for their own cat shit.

l
Oh, the slight discoloration and strong scent of haddock, it must be Geoffrey’s!

I’m stumped. Can anyone else think of anything?