Trevor loved tractors. And I mean, really loved tractors. Forget any obsessions or high-level interests you may have, chances are they pale in the face of Trevor’s love for tractors.
Every day Trevor would get up, in his tractor-themed bedroom in his tractor-themed house, with its tractor-themed wallpaper and tractor-themed carpets, and he would make his bed with its tractor-themed duvet and tractor-themed sheets. He would go downstairs in his tractor-themed pajamas into his tractor-themed kitchen, with its tractor-themed tiles and cupboards, and he would eat his breakfast while perusing the latest tractor-themed magazine or annual.
Trevors’s degree in Agricultural Engineering hung on his living room wall, along with a copy of his thesis, which centred around (you guessed it) tractors. The living room was decorated with all sorts of tractor-related trinkets, including die-cast models, paintings and drawings.
The hedges in Trevor’s front garden were trimmed in the shape of tractors. His lawn was vividly decorated with tractor-driving garden gnomes, and his garden furniture was constructed from various parts from vintage tractor designs.
Trevor just had one thing missing from his otherwise tractor-centric life; he had never actually owned, nor driven, a real tractor.
Not for his lack of trying, of course. Trevor had been to many tractor shows over the years, and visited many farms with friends of his, but none of the tractors he had seen had ever been quite right. Trevor was so knowledgeable about tractors that every single one he had come across had possessed some hidden trait that he wasn’t keen on. His first experience of driving a real tractor had to be perfect.
One day, Trevor was flicking through one of his favourite publications, Powertrain Quarterly, when there was a knock at the door. Trevor answered, and it was his friend and fellow tractor enthusiast, Jeff.
Trevor welcomed Jeff in, and over tea and crumpets served on tractor-themed crockery, they discussed the merits of aluminium drawbars and front-end loaders. Eventually Trevor pressed Jeff to explain the reason for his visit.
“Well” said Jeff, “As I’m sure you know the convention comes to town later”.
The convention. Trevor had been thinking of little else the past three weeks. The neighbouring town annually threw a convention for farmers, particularly farmyard machinery. There would be combine harvesters, lawnmowers, and of course, tractors.
“Yes of course” replied Trevor... keep reading on reddit ➡
There isn’t another soul on the street.
Suddenly, from out of the gloom, comes an ominous bump...bump…bump.
He looks behind him and spots a furtive, shadowy thing coming down the street after him.
Unnerved, he picks up his pace, finally breaking into a panicked run.
He looks behind him again, and the shadow is closer.
The glow of a streetlight illuminates the shadow momentarily, and, to the man’s horror, it is a coffin, bumping down the sidewalk.
He quickens his pace, running as fast as he can go, but the coffin only pursues more quickly.
He reaches his house, fumbles frantically for his keys, and slips in the door just as the coffin reaches his front steps.
He slams the door and leans against it, catching his breath.
There is a moment’s silence, and the man wonders if he dares to breathe.
He rebounds away as the door breaks off its hinges.
Scrambling to his feet, he charges up the stairs, and the coffin races after.
BUMP BUMP BUMP BUMP!
Terrified, he backs into a corner and starts throwing everything within reach at the coffin — a handful of papers, a vase, a box of crackers, a lamp — but the coffin keeps coming!
BUMP BUMP BUMP BUMP BUMP INCHESFROMHISFACE, and nothing seems to slow it down!
His hands fall upon a bottle of cough syrup, and he throws that at the coffin, too!
The coffin stops.
In science today we were discussing chemical reactions, more specifically ones resulting in light.
Science teacher: "Have any of you seem that show '1000 ways to die'?
Most answer yes.
Teacher: "Well one episode some guy decided to inject himself with the contents of a glow stick to make his veins glow. He died."
Without thinking about it, I stand up and loudly blurt out: "He wasn't too bright, was he?"
Groans galore. I was so proud.
There once was a man who had a job driving a passenger train between two large towns. It could be a very dull job to some, but as the old saying goes, one man's trash is another's gold; he wanted to be a railroad man since he was a boy.
He was a wiz behind the controls of the train, and commanded the 15 car vehicle effortlessly as if he had been born to do the job. He prided himself on the fact that he could bend the rules and speed through curves and grades that made other motormen shiver and back off.
One day however, he wasn't so lucky and came round a bend too fast and derailed his train. He backed off the throttle and braked as much as he could, managing to only have one fatality out of 500 passengers on his train.
Months later there was a trial and he was found guilty of manslaughter in the highest degree, a capital offence in that land, and sentenced to die by electric chair. Punishment came swift, unlike most places, and 3 days after sentencing the former railroader was asked for his last meal.
"I'll have a banana," "Just a single banana?" said the perplexed guard. "The warden will grant you a feast and all you want is that?"
"Just a single banana." he said.
After he downed the fruit, he was strapped into the electric chair an hour later.... The warden hit the switch, lights flickered, and the crackle of electricity could be heard for over a minute...
...but our train jockey instead rose from the chair looking more like he got a stiff massage, rather than be put to death! Well in that nation, the law of the land states that if a man somehow survives being put to death, they must be set free...
...And so it came to pass that our engineer was let go...
And for whatever reason, he got his job back!
So he was back railroading again doing the job that he loved. You'd think he'd have been more cautious with this second chance he'd been given, but you'd also be wrong. Speedy Gonzales with a train license decided to gun his locomotive to hard and send it off the tracks again!
Of course, this time he was tried for the same crime, but at a different time (his was a fair commonwealth and double indemnity was simply unheard of!) So fair was their nation, that the jury came up with the same judgement and punishment. So three days later, when asked for his last meal, the engineer simply said "I'll have 2 bananas..."
Not less than 60 minutes after consuming the last morsel was he strapped into the chair and the switch thrown... And....
NOTHING.... keep reading on reddit ➡
We're catching up on Agents of SHIELD tonight, and I commented that Agent Gonzales always seems to be conspicuously drinking a glass of water. My husband agreed that he does seem suspicious, and wondered aloud if he was actually a traitor.
I responded, "He may just be trying to stay Hydra-ated," and proceeded to fall over laughing on the couch while the husband slowly shook his head and sighed. Somewhere, my dad is glowing with pride.