Week 43: The Fall

Friday 26th October 2018

Reading time 02 minutes 59 seconds 

Everybody in here’s innocent, don’t you know that? – The Shawshank Redemption

My biggest fear is being attacked by little porcelain dolls with pointy teeth. Oh, and going to prison. 

The very idea of prison scares me, and I break out in a sweat if I am sent to Jail in Monopoly.

Recently my day was like any other until my partner slipped whilst walking down the stairs carrying a suitcase. To say she was in a bad way is an understatement and there was so much blood and screaming it could have been a scene from a Tarantino film. Instinctively I knew if she died I was looking at a murder charge and would be spending the rest of my life in the ‘Scrubs’ for a crime I didn’t commit. 

As she lay there waiting for the ambulance I went into clown mode and told her about a podcast I’d listened to which explained if you have had a traumatic experience you should play the game Tetris. The rationale being that by overwriting the immediate negative feelings of the incident you can eliminate the chances of PTSD. She did find this funny, but the laughter caused a lot more pain and seeing her in pain was excruciating for us both.

The ambulance arrived and due to her injuries, they administered gas and air which helped a little. I let her have a go when I was finished.

We were rushed to the Hospital with the blue lights and everything. Hospitals are scary places as the air is filled with fear and all you can do is think as you try to shut out the noise of other people’s misery and await your turn to be seen. Whilst lying there in pain, awaiting to discover if she had a broken neck, my incredibly brave girlfriend asked me “What’s the worst that could happen?”

I thought for a second, took a deep breath and then in detail I told her.

Firstly a Doctor would recognise me from a local comedy gig and subsequently she would follow my stories and pursuits on social media.

As she was attending to my girlfriend she would be on the phone to the law telling them the ‘fall down the stairs’ story was suspicious. She would tell the Police that ‘The Boyfriend’ had form and she knew this because she had recently read that I had pushed a previous partner from a window ledge.

My girlfriend would then die in my arms before she had a chance to tell the police the truth. In a plotline from EastEnders I would be arrested for murder although sadly I am not Grant Mitchell and my Mrs isn’t Tiffany.

A twitter hate campaign would be launched against me, with the overly long hashtag #theboyfriendwholookslikeWarwickDavisdunnit

Warwick Davis seeks to distance himself from me but consequently his career is finished.

In court I defend myself and my main point to the Jury is to tell them I am a struggling comedian and my girlfriend was the main bread winner so why would I kill her? My defence becomes inadmissible in court, due a precedent, and at this point I realise I’d watched too many episodes of Law and Order. 

Everyone in the trial would testify that I was a nice bloke, albeit with some dodgy tendencies, BUT the jury finds me guilty saying that whilst I might be the last person anyone would suspect of murder I had recently joked about it on stage. They had hunted down the handful of people who witnessed me saying this and as they testify against me I hang my head as I am bang to rights.

For the record the undeveloped ‘bit’ I was doing on stage was about marrying, not for love, but so we can have the right to switch off one another’s life support machines in addition to accessing each other’s pension. Nothing says I love you more than I want to kill you and take your money. Like I say it’s undeveloped.

I am sent to prison where I am left alone because I am convicted murderer and classed as a dangerous person by the other prisoners. Or I might be some sort of currency. Either way I’d have to learn to smoke again (which shouldn’t take long). I’m in my cell recalling everything I have lost. My friends. The cats. My freedom. Oh, and my girlfriend.

She curtailed the story, looked up at me and said, “What’s the worst that could happen to me you selfish idiot?” 

Of course, I knew she meant that! Anyway, she didn’t die. There were some broken bones and dislocations and lots of pain. The staff at the hospital were incredible and helped fix her and thankfully no one recognised me.

Picture: My friend put this on his wall at a party with the caption Wills or Warwick? It took me while to work it out.