From: carasso@netcom.com (RDC)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Subject: Re: The games that people play
Date: 9 Apr 92 00:37:40 GMT
Organization: PTA BOARD COUNCIL OF THE GREATER UNITED STATES

In article <1992Apr8.200853.14829@cs.odu.edu> dise@news.cs.odu.edu (Aegis) writes:
>Kids play strange games.  Most people don't realize this, because kids
>don't view their games as strange, and adults won't admit that they played
>strange games as children.  Either that, or they have become so senile that
>they have forgotten completely.  I usually argue on the side of senile.
>I was an especially strange child.  My friend, Lynn, and I invented many
>rather interesting pastimes.  One of these games was to imitate expressions of
>intense pain.  We scored each other on a fifty point scale, based on realism.
>"I've got a good one for you," Lynn said as he batted an empty nest out
>of a tree.
>"OK, let's see it," I mocked as he kicked the nest.
>I watched him closely as his eyes grew, nearly popping out of his head.  At
>the same time, his cheeks started to inflate, and his whole face turned
>red.
>"Not bad.  Not bad at all.  I'll give that about a ten."
>It was right about then that he started flailing his hands viciously at the air and began to violently stomp the ground.  He then started saying something
>that sounded like "Wath, wath, me ma me mow!"
>"Impressive.  I'll give you a fifteen."
>Suddenly, Lynn broke out into a modified skipping run, which basically
>involves sprinting in such a manner that you only touch the ground every 
>fifth or so stride.  A good skip runner can easily travel thirty-five
>miles per hour.  Good old Lynn was doing closer to eighty.  I called his a
>modified skipping run because every other time he'd set foot to earth, he
>shot straight up in the air about twenty feet.  Needless to say, I was
>impressed.
>"You did it!  You got a fifty!"
>Not that he was paying any attention to me.  He broke out of the circle
>he apparently had been trapped in and made a bee-line in the general
>direction of home.  The only problem being that home was on the other
>side of an unusually thick patch of woods.  The last time I saw him that
>day he was skip-running through the woods, flailing his arms, and at this
>point turning puprle.  Occasionally he'd ricochet off of a tree or two,
>but it didn't look like it hurt much.  I later found out the wasp nest
>he'd knocked out of the tree wasn't quite as empty as it appeared.  It's
>alright, though.  The swelling went dowm much quicker than the doctors
>anticipated, and he even regained the ability to walk by the end of the
>summer.  Occasionally Lynn and I will go back and visitl the two baby
>teeth he left embedded in that first oak tree he bounced off.  More
>good news!  His therapy is going well, and he's almost overcome his
>fear of flying insects.  Once during his recovery, I made the mistake of
>luaghing about the expression on his face at the time of the incident.
>He then proceeded to get rather angry with me and made some sort of rude
>comment about my heritage.  There was no way I could let those manners
>go unavenged whether he was sick and bedridden or not.  I must admit,
>though, after I was finished with him, I did feel a little bad about
>what I'd done.  It was shameless the way I beat up his fist with
>my face.  But don't worry, I'm feeling much better now!
>

NOW IN HUNGARIAN NOTATION!!!!!!!!!!!!


KidsPlayStrangeGames. MostPeopleDon'tRealizeThis,BecauseKids
don'tViewTheirGamesAsStrange,AndAdultsWon'tAdmitThatTheyPlayed
strangeGamesAsChildren. EitherThat,OrTheyHaveBecomeSoSenileThat
theyHaveForgottenCompletely. IUsuallyArgueOnTheSideOfSenile.
IWasAnEspeciallyStrangeChild. MyFriend,Lynn,AndIInventedMany
ratherInterestingPastimes. OneOfTheseGamesWasToImitateExpressionsOf
intensePain. WeScoredEachOtherOnAFiftyPointScale,BasedOnRealism.
"I'veGotAGoodOneForYou,"LynnSaidAsHeBattedAnEmptyNestOut ofATree.
"OK,Let'sSeeIt,"IMockedAsHeKickedTheNest.
IWatchedHimCloselyAsHisEyesGrew,NearlyPoppingOutOfHisHead. At
theSameTime,HisCheeksStartedToInflate,AndHisWholeFaceTurned red.
"NotBad. NotBadAtAll. I'llGiveThatAboutATen."
ItWasRightAboutThenThatHeStartedFlailingHisHandsViciouslyAtTheAirAndBeganToViolentlyStompTheGround.
HeThenStartedSayingSomething thatSoundedLike"Wath,Wath,MeMaMeMow!"
"Impressive. I'llGiveYouAFifteen."
Suddenly,LynnBrokeOutIntoAModifiedSkippingRun,WhichBasically
involvesSprintingInSuchAMannerThatYouOnlyTouchTheGroundEvery
FifthOrSoStride. AGoodSkipRunnerCanEasilyTravelThirty-five
milesPerHour. GoodOldLynnWasDoingCloserToEighty. ICalledHisA
modifiedSkippingRunBecauseEveryOtherTimeHe'dSetFootToEarth,He
shotStraightUpInTheAirAboutTwentyFeet. NeedlessToSay,IWas impressed.
"YouDidIt! YouGotAFifty!"  NotThatHeWasPayingAnyAttentionToMe.
HeBrokeOutOfTheCircle
heApparentlyHadBeenTrappedInAndMadeABee-lineInTheGeneral
directionOfHome. TheOnlyProblemBeingThatHomeWasOnTheOther
sideOfAnUnusuallyThickPatchOfWoods. TheLastTimeISawHimThat
dayHeWasSkip-runningThroughTheWoods,FlailingHisArms,AndAtThis
pointTurningPuprle. OccasionallyHe'dRicochetOffOfATreeOrTwo,
butItDidn'tLookLikeItHurtMuch. ILaterFoundOutTheWaspNest
he'dKnockedOutOfTheTreeWasn'tQuiteAsEmptyAsItAppeared. It's
alright,Though. TheSwellingWentDowmMuchQuickerThanTheDoctors
anticipated,AndHeEvenRegainedTheAbilityToWalkByTheEndOfThe summer.
OccasionallyLynnAndIWillGoBackAndVisitlTheTwoBaby
teethHeLeftEmbeddedInThatFirstOakTreeHeBouncedOff. More goodNews!
HisTherapyIsGoingWell,AndHe'sAlmostOvercomeHis fearOfFlyingInsects.
OnceDuringHisRecovery,IMadeTheMistakeOf
luaghingAboutTheExpressionOnHisFaceAtTheTimeOfTheIncident.
HeThenProceededToGetRatherAngryWithMeAndMadeSomeSortOfRude
commentAboutMyHeritage. ThereWasNoWayICouldLetThoseManners
goUnavengedWhetherHeWasSickAndBedriddenOrNot. IMustAdmit,
though,AfterIWasFinishedWithHim,IDidFeelALittleBadAbout whatI'dDone.
ItWasShamelessTheWayIBeatUpHisFistWith myFace.
ButDon'tWorry,I'mFeelingMuchBetterNow!
-- 
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