Mum = RL Troll

I can't wait for my medical on Friday so I can start working for the NHS proper and stuff. Don't get me wrong; sunning myself in the garden or writing slash or watching the DVDs I've never had time for is all well and good, but being around my mum is like being with a particularly naughty teenager.

If it's not the endless questions--

Mum: How long does the earth take to turn around?
Me: Uh... twenty-four hours?
Mum: It must be moving fast.
Me: Well, yeah.
Mum: Why aren't we always getting travel-sick, then?

...It's the pranks. When I was a little girl, mum's favourite pranks were things like hiding under my bed and grabbing my wrist (which totally didn't create any disorders ohmygodmustkeepwristawayfromsideorillgetmyhandbittenoff), or telling me that whenever it thundered, God was angry with me. (Cue one tearful, hysterical night when a particularly loud thunderstorm passed overhead.)

Prank #24235 - Drive My Brother to a Frothing Rage

So, this morning, I get the mail. The others have gone out to work, except lazy college!brother. I hand my mum the mail whilst complaining that my National Express tickets haven't come. She reads a couple of letters. Tidies the room. A letter is there where the the name isn't visible in the little window. She opens it. It's addressed to my younger brother, Adam. He of the College.

Now, Adam is one of the funniest people I know. He's completely like Peter Kay when joking about something, hates Roller Cola... but also, like me, has something of a temper. He has also been attending the gym after he put on a dangerous amount of weight and has in fact lost quite a bit. He's still determined to lose more, though.

The letter is from the local gym. They haven't received this month's payment and, if he would be so kind, could he ring them to let them know if he still wanted to be part of that gym?

And then my mum takes out a pen. W, she writes.

"Mum! What are you doing?" I ask.

Wanker, she writes, if you weren't so fat, you wouldn't be in debt.

And then she seals it up. It's bad, but by this point, I'm doubled over with laughter. She goes into Adam's room and says she's just got the post. She hands it to him and leaves the room.

Silence reigns. Unable to stand it any longer, I go in to see him. He's putting on his coat. "Adam?" I ask. "What was the letter about?"

"I'm going to go round there and kill everyone."

"Why?" I ask, bursting into laughter. He shows me the letter.

"I didn't even read the rest," he says, "I'm just going to go in there with a machete or something."

"No," says my mum, "you can't!"

"Where's the phone, then?"

"Adam," she says, "I wrote it! It was just a joke!"

Adam bursts out laughing. "Well, I agreed with it. But I still feel like chinning them."

"Why?"

"Because it's on their letterhead."

Etc.