Boredom can come all too easily, especially if you live in a small town and there is nothing much to do. Such as it was in my home town in Yorkshire in the North-east of England. All any of the local teenage community could think about and talk about was when they would one day leave the small town to explore the great big world out there.
On Saturday evenings we would hang around on street corners and fantasize about the future.
And it was on such an evening that Bob, who was one of the more…well let´s just say he was borderline crazy….in fact we often called him; "Bob Bonkers". Anyways..he suddenly turned up in an old worn out banger of a car. A light blue 1970s Cortina, if I remember rightly.
"I´m board of this f*cking town, I need to get out even if its it just for a few days. Anyone want to come along for a long drive?" He shouted out of the window. No one responded."Come on you boring f*ckers where is your sense of adventure! What about you Arthur?"
"Where are you going?" I asked.
"Where? Anywhere that´s away from here, I don't know, somewhere. Are you f*cking coming or not?" He demanded, with that typical crazy look on his face. I don't know what got into me but something told me to get in that car and seconds later we were off into the unknown. Bob Bonkers explained that he had bought the car for a mere £50 which was not more than it was with as scrap metal. "It could break down at any moment but that´s what makes it an adventure!" He said. I began to wonder what I had let myself into.
And so we drove and drove for miles and miles until we came to the famous Yorkshire Moors. Or perhaps I should say notorious. Notorious because of the Moors murders that had happened 20 years earlier during the1960s. Myra Hindley and Ian Brady had kidnapped and murdered several children and then buried them somewhere on these desolate moors. Even today in 1981, some of the bodies had never been found. It was not the nicest of areas to have a drive especially at night.
It was dark but it was a full moon that night and all we could see were empty fields for miles and miles. The car chugged along at 40 mph, which I think was its top speed and then I saw some faint lights way of into the distance. It was the prison. A prison located in the middle of nowhere that held some of Britian´s most dangerous criminals. The prison was also notorious due to the fact that there had been some famous escapes. Most had all been captured within a few days due to its remote location but one or two had hijacked a passing car and that´s what was going through my mind when I saw the prison.
I held my breath as though by doing so it would keep the engine going. And then almost as if my fears had been heard and answered, the engine suddenly stopped. It was like it just died. We just sat there in silence in shear disbelief.
"What do you know about cars?" Asked Bob, as he stared straight ahead through the windscreen.
"It´s not a good time for jokes Bob!" I said, in a serious tone.
"I´m not joking. You´re supposed to be the clever one, I figured you would know abut engines and stuff?" Said Bob turning to look at me.
"You figured?" I replied
"Well, do you know about cars or not!" Shouted Bob in an angry tone.
"For f*ck sake Bob we´re in the middle of nowhere!" I was getting angry myself now
"No shit Sherlock!"
I suddenly remembered all the times that I had watched my father working on his car. "Open the bonnet and I will have a look." I said
"How do I do that?"
"Oh for f*ck….the lever is usually down at the side of the…oh just get out and I´ll do it myself." I said, rolling my eyes.
I opened the bonnet and we both looked at the engine as though it was the first time we realized that such things are what make a car actually move.
"Can you fix it?" Asked Bob, as though he believed I had been secretly studying car mechanics for the past five years. I just glared at him. He then went to the side of the road to have a; "piss."
"Hey, there is a crazy goat watching me take a piss!" Shouted Bob
"Yeah it´s the goat that´s crazy?" I commented to myself.
"SPARRRRKPLUGSSS, SPARRRRK….PLUUGSSS"
"What the f*ck!. Arthur did your hear that.? The f*cking goat is talking to me!" Shouted Bob, as he continued emptying his bladder.
"SPARRRRKPLUGSSS, SPARRRRK….PLUUGSSS" - was the strange sound that was apparently coming from the goat.
"Jesus, it sounds like it´s saying..spark plugs. Come over here and have a listen!" Said Bob as he zipped up his jeans. I walked over to see what on earth Bob Bonkers was going on about. Indeed there was a goat standing there and it appeared to be looking straight at us. It had huge horns that twirled in a kind of a spiral, and it´s eyes…well they looked evil.
"SPARRRRKPLUGSSS, SPARRRRK….PLUUGSSS" - "said" the creature. And for a second I thought it really did sound like it was saying; Spark plugs. The goat then "spoke" again
"SPARRRRK PLUGSSS, SPARRRRK….PLUUGSSS"
Bob thought it was hysterical but I didn't think it was funny at all. I had heard of such things as black magic and I felt a cold chill come over me.
"It´s telling us to check the spark plugs. Even I know what spark plugs are." Said Bob, with a big smile on his face. We wandered back over to the car and looked at the engine again.
"Where are the spark plugs then?" Asked Bob.
"So you have heard of them but you don't know what they look like?" I said shaking my head. Luckily I remembered seeing my father change the spark plugs at one time and so I had some idea of what to do. I pulled off the ignition wire from each spark plugs and basically checked to see if any where loose.
"Do you know what you are doing, I hope you´re not making it worse." Commented Bob and I gave him a stern look as if to say; I´m gonna punch you in a minute. We could still hear the goat in the background. "SPARRRRK PLUGSSS, SPARRRRK….PLUUGSSS"
Strangely enough one of the spark plugs was indeed loose. "This one seems loose. We need a special spanner for these but I can try to tighten it as much as I can with my hand." I explained. "Ok try it now" I said. Bob eagerly got back inside the car. He was smiling as though he knew it was going to start. It did. I looked in disbelief and the sound of the rumbling engine filling the silent night also filled me with relief.
"I f*cking told you it was telling us that it was the spark plugs!" Said Bob, I had never seen his face look so overjoyed.
"Right yeah, it was the goat that fixed the car. Now can we get the hell out of here!" I said. We both looked to see if the goat was still there, but it had vanished.
About two miles later we were heading down into a valley and at the bottom we could see the friendly light from a local pub. Ironically it was called; "The Goat Tavern"
We decided we could do with a drink and thankfully we were just in time for last orders. When we walked in everyone look around at us for a second but did not give us much attention after that. "Two beers please." I said.
"You folks aint from around here, where are you from?" Asked the barman, whom I would say was in his late 50s. Before I could reply Bob interceded. This was not surprising as Bob was a bit of talker.
"You wont believe what just happened to us on the hill up there. Our car broke down and some f*ckin goat told us how to fix it." He told. Almost as soon as he finished the sentence the whole pub became silent.
"What´s that you say, a goat?" Asked the bar tender. He seemed frozen in the action of placing the beer glass down and it just hovered an inch above.
"Take no notice, my friend here is just making a joke." I explained. I was now aware that the atmosphere in the place had just altered dramatically. Bob seemed to have no idea of this and just continued thinking he now had a big audience.
"Im telling you the goat spoke to us as clear as I am taking now. It said; ´Change the f'cking spark plugs´, and Jesus would you believe it was spark plugs that need fixing!" Explained Bob. He was really enjoying himself now. The barman placed the beer glass down and then made the sign of the cross on his chest. I looked around and saw that everyone else in the pub did the same thing. My body went cold. Bob now understood something was wrong and the expression on his face changed from one of glee to one of fear.
"You folks have no idea how lucky you are to be standing here right now." Said the barman, in a very serious tone. The whole pub was now staring at us.
"W..wh..why ?" Asked Bob, nervously.
"Well because the goat in the other field knows nothing about cars!"
OK, so it´s not a true story. However, if I had you going there for a minute then that was the intention. For this story has a somewhat sinister function as well as being funny. Would you believe that it is sometimes used by psychiatrists to test to see how susceptible you are to being manipulated by a psychopath. The idea is to demonstrate how a psychopath is clever to get into your mind. They are brilliant liars but tend to exaggerate the facts of a story. And yet at the same time, the way they tell the story, gets you intrigued to know what actually happens at the end even if you are suspicious that it is a lie. In this way the psychopath creeps into your mind as you find yourself making images in your head of what they are saying. This story is merely an innocent tale but this is exactly what psychopaths do when they are trying to persuade you to buy something or to invest in a scam. Their story captures your attention, it sounds crazy but at the same time it just might be true.
The first clue, albeit a subtle one, was that Bob´s nick name was "bonkers". The fact that it was a "full moon" was also a subtle clue as such references are often used in stories to create mood. In a true story the teller will often forget to tell such details.
The moment the story mentioned that the goat had apparently said; "SPARRK PLUGGS," you should have at least become a little suspicious.
When it turned out that the spark plugs were indeed the problem with the car you should have become more skeptical.
When the pub turned out to be called; "The Goat, Tavern" you should have got warning lights. The chances of such a thing being true is thousands to one, and yet such things do happen, right?
When the barman made the sign of the cross that should have enough to make you realize it was a joke and there was a punchline coming. If you got to the very bed without figuring out it was a joke then you are in serious trouble and could be manipulated by a psychopath very easily.
When the psychopath tries to manipulate you there will always be warning signs. Did any of you notice the car registration number changing giving you a message the story was fake? Did you spot any others?
We are all susceptible to this which is why is why we often vote for the politician who is the best at talking. There is an old saying, a person who tells a story balder is usually telling the truth. If we want to have honest politicians then vote for the one who is boring and not charming.
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Thanks for visiting my blog and I give you a warm welcome back next time.
