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Home Alone


Devon Malcolm

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Or 'Your Parents Aren't In - An Adventure'. Basically, stupid or disastrous stuff that happened when you were entrusted with looking after your place preferably as a young 'un.

 

Once I'd turned 15 I persuaded my parents that I could be trusted with looking after the house on my own for two weeks while they went on holiday to Cyprus, because Cyprus was fucking boring and too hot and the girls weren't as fit as in Malta.

 

Among the highlights:-

 

* On the first night I decided to try using the chip pan on my own and, putting it on the lowest possible heat it would go on so as not to cause a chip pan fire and be on That's Life, about 45 minutes later the fat was melted and it took about an hour to cook some pomme noisettes, by which time I wasn't hungry because I got bored and ate three bags of Ringos.

 

* When money started to run out on day three, I mostly lived off Greggs iced fingers and Rice Krispies.

 

* My mum forgot reduce the milk delivery so when she got back she came home to 16 bottles of semi-skimmed and then made me tip away the ones that had turned rancid as punishment.

 

* My uncle came round one day to mow the lawn except he put the mower on the wrong setting or something and it pulled up all the grass by the roots.

 

* Found a dildo and 'sex education' books under my parents' bed and then, later, a used condom and never went back in there again.

 

And yet they still let me do this for the next 4 years afterwards too.

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I used to be left alone during the summer holidays from age 14 or so when my Mam was at work. Used to get up to all sorts. Roasting marshmallows over the gas fire and dripping the molten result all over the new carpet and ruining it, opening the skylight and setting up bread traps to try and lure crows and magpies into the conservatory which luckily never worked, eating catering sized bags of frozen chicken nuggets in a day and then denying they ever existed to my mam, discovering Pamela Anderson's sex tape in my brothers room and watching it over and over til the tape was knackered, trying to make a flame thrower by gluing lynx cans to a hurling stick and rigging the trigger and gas lighter with rope. Killing wasp nest in the shed with same contraption and almost burning it down/getting stung to fuck by swarm of wasps.

 

Just idiotic and dangerous stuff that would make me never doubt how mindlessly stupid a teenage boy could be.

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Before having a driving license of any kind, I attempted to hill-start my mum's car.  The hill we lived on was steep.  I had zero clutch control at aged 16.  The car trundled backwards & bashed my next-door-but-one neighbours car.  I got out calmly, headed into the house & put the keys back on the hook.  Parents got back from their trip & I feigned no knowledge of the car moving.  Dad swore blind the handbrake was slipping, & luckily neither left said motor in gear habitually ... full brake check later, turns out the brakes were shot anyway!

 

At 15 there was a stream of girls through the house; every other summers day in school holidays I managed to get off with a tourist/camper ... I lived in The Mumbles for my formative years ... so when the 'rents were out, I'd be in.  Inevitably I was caught mid-coitus on the sofa with a Japanese girl, who I was quite taken with actually; lovely skin & massively polite.  We saw each other a few times before the act went down.  I still remember my dad giving me a thumbs up & massive grin whilst he stood behind my mum, & the poor girl screaming "ME SO SOLLY" as she pegged it out of the house, never to be seen again.

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Mine was the obligatory "have a party whilst the parents are away" thing.

 

At the time, I was about 17, and invited my then-girlfriend over, with a few mates. It turns out "a few mates" were half her college who came and pretty much destroyed my house. Most of it was superficial cleaning up stuff, although one or two things popped up that remain in my mind.

 

1. My then-girlfriend got VERY drunk, had an argument with me and attempted to "run off", only to run straight into some closed patio doors and knock herself out. The force didn't break the glass, although did something to the frame, [it was one of those weird doors you can half open or move out and slide across], which went unnoticed for a few years, and then was blamed on my step father, after he angrily pulled it open once

 

2. A large generic bathroom ornament had been broken by somebody, although I managed to prop it back up in a way that you couldn't see the crack, and it stayed like this for a few months, until we my parents re-decorated and knocked it over....thinking one of them had smashed it. 

 

3. One teenage couple tried to run up the stairs, although one of them slipped and put his arm through the Bannister support poles, snapping it cleanly in half. Everybody heard it, and most promptly left after my proceeding meltdown about it.

 

I managed to "fix" it back together in place, [by wedging the two pieces back together, you can hardly see the break], which has now been the same for some 12 years, without them noticing.

 

Oh and I found my best friend copping off with a girl on the stairs...which wouldn't have been a problem if this girl wasn't his girlfriend at the time.  We later had a party at her house that involved random strangers coming in, stealing items and breaking doors off hinges.

 

Ah the good old days. 

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First time alone for a night broke Mum's bed by doing a springboard moonsault off the wall it was against and landing with the full weight of my sternum on the end.

 

I also did a moonsault off the wooden arm of the futon, didn't spring back enough and landed head first on the wood, thus splitting my head open and drawing forth a lump reminiscent of a Condor egg. Lasted a whopping 5 hour in my own company before having to dial 999.

 

Not the same day, but also broke 4 of the supporting slats on my bed doing a frogsplash off the chest of draws onto it as a 'tribute' because Eddie Guerrero had died.

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Most of the damage to my Mums house was caused by me and my brother watching wrestling and ignoring the "Do Not Try This At Home" video as quickly as possible. She had an old brown settee that was about 10 years old by this point so was on deaths door anyway but this doubled as the ring. He's littler than me so I'd be Undertaker and he'd be Jeff Hardy and I'd powerbomb and chokeslam the shit out of him and he'd do Swantons from the arm rest or hurricaranas with me flipping on to it. Occasionally I'd switch from being Undertaker to Matt Hardy so we could do that double team move where Matt gets on all fours and Jeff springboards off his back. He'd jump off me and flip on to the sofa. After a few months of this the castors, springs and cushions were all totally knackered. 

 

He once grabbed a plastic tea tray and went to hit me with it pretending it was a steel chair and smashed part of the lighting fixture in the front room. It was one of those chandelier types with the glass shades on top. He smashed two clean in half so we rotated them so the break was on the inside and she didn't notice for a couple of years.

 

We once took all the seat cushions off the sofa to hit moves. It was all going well until I decided to take a Pedigree, my face went between the gaps in the cushions and he drilled my head in to the floor. Didn't break my nose but did bend my glasses.

 

We used to play street roller hockey which would generally descend in to everybody twatting each other with their hockey sticks. One time I swung for somebody, missed and cracked our drainpipe in half. She spotted that one pretty quickly when she got home due to us not bothering to disguise it.

 

I was once painting a model car outside using British racing green gloss. I was using one of those plastic white garden tables to hold everything and I inevitably knocked the paint over. The spill was about the size of an A5 piece of paper but being 15 I dabbed it in paper towels making the paint spread all over around a quarter of the table. In a panic I legged it to the next door neighbours to borrow some turps which he lent me after pissing himself laughing for five minutes or so. I managed to thin the paint but there was a subtle green colour still showing through. I simply moved the table to the bottom of the garden and turned it round so the paint was as far away from view as possible. I may have even put a plant pot or something on it to hide the paint. Yeah, she spotted that in about a minute. Bollockings were given.

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I once got left while my brother and sister were taken to swimming lessons for a couple of hours as the pool was in the middle of a rough estate and my mum didnt want me getting on her tits at the pool or wondering off into her idea of hell. I decided to make rice crispy chocolate cakes like I had seen her do, although I was yet to learn milk chocolate doesn't just melt. Think the stench stayed in the kitchen for about 5 years following that.

 

Few years on and I was doing some relatively light backyard wrestling with some friends, we were all too fat and too chicken to do anything deadly so it was mostly promos and 5 minute matches featuring fat guys punching and kicking. We decided to have a big blow off show and it got cancelled by the previous venue owner as they got into girls, so I volunteered and turned my living room into a mattress arena. We decided to put a little more effort in that night and have a ladder match which went into the garden and 2 mates bent my mothers washing up line pole which she has always blamed on my but funnily enough for another evening about 3 years later. The same match also had the ladder, my dads big chunky work ladder which would've killed someone if they had used it for a head shot get pushed over and collide with the light plastered wall that made the under the stairs cupboard. It made somewhat of a dent which was clearly noticeable like the entrance to a fleshlight pretty much. However I never got done for it and my dad has repaired it. No idea how as I was furious it had happened. Later on I decided to jump off a ladder backwards through a table which was a piece of thin board between two arm chairs, on watching the footage back I noticed the back of my head was centimeters away from the post at the bottom of the banisters, scared me out of ever even messing around like that again.

 

The last ever time I did something not cool in the house was about a year or so before I moved, got drunk and into a fight on a night out. Came home told my brother about it who offered to drive me around the town to hunt the guy down and shoot him with an air rifle, my brother was sober too at the time just a little deranged. Instead we went into the recycling bin and pulled out a ton of wine bottles and shot them to pieces in the garden. Forgot my dad came home the next day and cut himself on them while sorting out his plants and was not best pleased with us. 

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the one time in the summer holidays when they were at work I decided that as I'd used every other room in the house I'd have a wank in the shed, for a change. I t was a large shed, two rooms and the back wall backed onto a little gully (do you call them gullies everywhere in the country? an alley type thing) which sometimes you'd hear girls you recognised from school walk past, not that I was planning on making noise or anything, I.. don't know why I thought I'd do it I just thought having a wank in the shed would be different. so I went down the garden, magazines stuffed under my t-shirt in case the neighbours saw, went into the shed, shut the door and started flicking through the magazines. after an unspecified amount of time I heard the door click. I'd closed it over but the wind had blown it and it clicked closed. it was a padlock thing, the padlock wasn't in but the metal section with the slot in had gone over the hoopy bit that you put the padlock through, which is easy enough to open again from the outside, but from the inside science works against you, if you try to push the door open from the inside the metal just jams. this realisation made my erection disappear quite quickly. I tried shaking, lifting, hitting it but the fucker wouldn't budge (the door not my penis)

 

as I say, luckily I was in a shed so there were plenty of tools to poke trhough the slim gap in the door, but the pushing forward action of the screwdriver s and chisels pushed the whole door forwards so it wasn't working, there was no internal handle to hold back as I pushed the screwdrivers forwards. eventually I used a G Clamp to grasp a piece of wood on the inside and hold it back while using a screwdriver to prise the metal bit forwards and open the door.  anyway, I got out eventually but the lock surround looked a mess. a few weeks later someone broke into the shed and stole the garden vac and when the police came (this was so long ago that the police came out for shed bake ins!) they said it looked like there'd been a previous attempt to get in the door, I just let them believe that.

 

so long story short, went to have a wank in the shed, got shut in, got out, had a wank in another room, can't remember which.

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The one thing that sticks out for me is once when Mum went out to do the shopping me and my brother used the opportunity for a wrestling match. I accidently dropped him on the floor face first which gave him a black eye. My ten year old brain knew that you put frozen peas on stuff like that and it heals straight away so Mum will never find out. Unfortunately we only had a half open bag of frozen chips in the freezer, so I made him lie down and started to build a tower of frozen chips on his face, like a McCains Jenga tower if you will. Mum walked in looking absolutely bemused at my brother balancing frozen chips on his face whilst I sat there looking very smug that I had thought outside the box.

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We used to have a manky old patio that had a huge crack down the middle where millions of ants lived every summer. I spent years devising ways of killing them as a kid but they were always back the next summer for another war. Age 13 my parents felt I was sensible enough to look after the house by myself over a weekend. Me and my best mate thought it was funny to step up the game against the ants by going through the garage and using chemical warfare against them. This escalated to us pouring a bunch of petrol out of a can into the ants nest and surrounding area of patio then lighting it.

 

The resulting fire quickly lit up the back door and my best friend ran away. I had to go to my neighbours and tell them what I had done.  By the time the fire brigade and police got there the fire had taken out the kitchen and was halfway through the living room. My parents' were called back from their trip to London and went ballistic. I'm 37 now and whenever I've tried bringing this moment up with my Dad over the years either jokingly or seriously he has gone quiet and looked like he wants to chin me. My Mum on the other hand thinks its funny and that the ants got their revenge.

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Fucking hell. I was expecting the "broke the sofa" type stories, but I didn't expect somebody setting their house on fire.

 

I don't have many stories about mental parties at my house - the only notable accident was when I broke a vase literally 30 seconds after everyone left - but I once witnessed a drunk friend crawling on all fours looking for his glasses at another friend's house, his depth perception was off and he managed to put his head straight through the glass living room door.

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ALthough I was trusted to stay home alone while my parents had nights out since I was about 12 or 13, I was 16 when they decided I was old enough to not go on holiday with them.

 

After a week full of parties, resulting in every table and chair in the house being flattened and the living room curtain rail being pulled down, we decided we had to get cracking cleaning up. We went bollocks to the wall with the cleaning, even repairing the chairs etc and you wouldn't have known anything had gone off once done.

 

My parents came home and couldn't believe how responsible I had been...until our cat walked down stairs with an illuminous orange head. We still don't know how it happened, but the poor thing was walking around looking like it had been Tangoed for weeks!

 

From there, it must have been a week before my mother decided to make a full on Sunday dinner, and as everyone sat down at the(newly repaired) table, one by one every single chair collapsed. We all just sat there, on the floor totally shocked. Then my Nanan tried to pull herself up using the tabe and that collapsed. I thought my dad was going to kill me...

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