I went with a group of people out to farm in the Eastern Transvaal about 15/16 years ago, in the middle of nowhere, the farm belonged to the father of one of the guys there and hadn't been used for years and year. We all had a barbecue and got riproaring drunk - no-one knew what snakebite was, so I took it upon myself to take enough supplies for everyone to have at least one snakebite (I'd only found out the week before).
Anyway, so picture an abandonded farm, 15 or so 17 year-old lads (most of us were part of a martial arts school - wannabe Bruce Lees), all drunk (bar one guy who drank coke all night) and all sitting on this massive porch when one guy walks over to the barn and comes staggering back a few minutes later with the biggest ****ing axe I've ever seen. He had this ability to look really angry whenever wanted and someone shouted "It's a Klingon!" - there was a mass panic (apart from the one sober bloke who was stood there in amazement

) and the axe-wielder started chasing folk around the farmhouse.
Well, he started chasing me and I ran around the farm about three times (by which point everyone else had settled back on the porch) - it was turning into a Benny Hill chase

- anyway, I decided to run further out into the fields, closely followed by the Klingon. The grass was about waist high, it was dark, I was drunk and I never saw the plough in the middle of the field and pannelled straight into it. Swiftly followed by the Klingon. He cut his hand on the axe. I was only half-concious, lying in a field, so he stood up and walked back to the farm, leaving me there. He got back to the porch, covered in blood and all the folk there had heard was me scream as I hit the plough. I never witnessed it, but apparently it was like someone had dropped a grenade in the middle of the porch when he walked up.
Crikey, that too longer to explain than I thought
