The Savage Rape of
Steve Hilchie
Rape #1
The phone call came around noon on August the 11th, it was Steve and he sounded very excited. I quickly learned the reason for this excitement when he told me about a recent score he had made on Ebay. While searching for a laptop computer, he had found an Alienware Area 51 desktop
for the amazing price of $650 Canadian. He had immediately chosen to buy the Godlike machine.
“Wow!” I exclaimed… “what are the specs?”
“It’s a Pentium 4 2.8 Ghz, 512MB DDR SDRAM, ATI Mobility Radeon 9000, 15.0” LCD Screen with a 60 GB Hard drive!”
“Wow… how much does it normally cost?” I asked.
“$2700 American,” he replied.
“That’s awesome; send me the link so I can check it out!”
So he sent me the link, already skeptical I check around on the auction site, everything seemed OK until I decided to check out what else this seller had up for auction. That’s when my suspicions were confirmed, for low and behold the seller had many other Area 51 laptops as well as Sony Vaio Notepads
on sale for as little as $9.98 US. Yeah, Steve was about to be royally screwed by some guy in Maryland. So I hopped onto MSN Messenger and quickly told him that he’d be much better off buying a laptop for $9.98 and saving himself over $600!... "What??!" He exclaims. So I tell him to check out what else this guy is selling, and that’s about the time Steve started to panic. Luckily however, he hadn’t yet given his credit information to the seller. After a few emails back and forth with this seller, he learned that this moron was not selling laptops, no he was merely selling a spot in a line to receive the model of your choice, after you fully paid for it... And after 3-7 months!
Yeah, I know of other people who have been raped much worse on Ebay, and other auction sites… some of these people actually losing hundreds of dollars, but this story of a minor rape is only meant to serve as a prelude to the major rape that occurred yesterday.
Rape #2
As is customary on Wednesday nights, a group of us had assembled at the upper Rural field for a game of soccer and some Frisbee. Our group consisted of Steve Hilchie, Mark Townsend, Casey Dorrell, Curt Johnson, Andrew Breeze, Daniel Perry and I. We started off playing Frisbee, before starting into a game of free-for-all soccer. The only problem at this point was the hoards of mutant bloodsucking monsters that were slowly draining our blood reserves.
About halfway through our game a silver Dodge sedan drove past our field honking. Several minutes later, the same car slowly drove up the street and stopped at the side of the road. The passenger starting asking loudly in a thick British accent if we could help direct them to Victoria Park, I wasn’t particularly taken by their plight so I stayed back as Mark, and Andrew went over to their aid. They gave them directions to take a left up at the ball field, then another right onto North River Road
then to continue along North River until it ended, at which point they were to take a right hand turn and bam, they’d be in Victoria Park. Easy directions right? Wrong. They left, going the right way, and were gone. We returned to our soccer game, until 15 minutes later we were once again interrupted by the same car.
By this time the mosquitoes had become so nasty that Steve, Daniel and I were leaving, so we along with Mark walked up to their car. Mark once again tried to tell them how to get to Vic P. It was at this time that I managed to see whom these people were, there were two girls in their late teens early 20s sitting in the front seat, the driver was a slim brunette and the passenger was a chunky blond with ugly braided hair. There also appeared to be a young child in the backseat. They were driving a silver Dodge sedan with Island plates, and it wasn’t a rental. This is what first aroused my suspicions.
The passenger was doing all the talking, she was obviously quite dense because Mark was completely unable to talk any sense into her. Finally, Steve offered to drive to Victoria Park so that they could follow behind us. This seemed acceptable so we pulled out and they followed behind us. They were following us all the way down North River road, lagging behind rather oddly until for some reason they pulled off NR road and onto Queen Elizabeth Dr
. “Where the hell did they go?” We all asked each other. “Why would they turn right when they’re following us?”…
So we doubled back and caught up with them as they were pulling into a drive way to turn around. We pulled along side their car to ask what the matter had been. Steve, the compulsive giggler asked them why they had turned right. To which the blond haired passenger replied in her thick English accent, that they had seen another car turning right and had though it was us. Steve laughed at this, and told them to follow a bit closer. For some reason the passenger took offense to Steve’s giggles and questioned whether he was trying to insult them. I defused the situation by telling her that Steve was a compulsive giggler and that he always giggled everywhere including at funerals and in church.
“Well he doesn’t seem very nice,” she replied.
They finally agreed to follow us again, and we agreed to drive slower, because they weren’t used to driving on the right side of the road.
Off we went again, pausing now and again as they shouted, honked and flashed the brights at us to tell us we were going to fast. We were all rather confused by the fact that they thought that at 30km/h we were going fast. “They drive small cars, not gas sucking beasts like us,” I reasoned.
To which Dan replied that he "hated all Brits". Steve was obviously not in his element because he would occasionally pull off the road whenever they honked at us, just to be told once more to go slower. At one time, we pulled over and they gave us a large Sylvester throw stuffed thing. “In Britain we give Sylvestas as gifts,” she told us. “Okay… thanks,” We just thought that they were making fun of themselves, obviously embarrassed by their own stupidity. Why else would someone give such a gift?
It was at this time as well that they asked if we could drive on the left side of the road to make it easier for them to follow us. We tried to reason with them, cautioning them against oncoming traffic ect. But they were resolute that they needed to drive on the left side of the road. Seeing now harm in this, since we were on the side streets and there wasn’t much traffic, we agreed. So off we went driving slowly on the left side of the street, shouting warnings at pedestrians and onlookers that there were crazy Brits behind us!
After this point things just got worse and worse. I was beginning to feel violated... nothing about this situation felt right...
The Brits just seemed to drive slower and slower as we continued along at our snails pace. By this time Victoria Park was almost within sight and I had begun to see the folly of our helpful nature... In my mind we were being taken and played like suckers. Roasted over a slow and torturous spit while slowly and steadily being brutally sodomized by a crazed braided blond freak.
Least that's what was going on in my mind... Over in Steve Hilchie land, things were a bit strange, but apparently no need for any alarm... I tried with all my might to convince my fellow victims that it wasn't too late to pull away with the last shreds of our dignity still intact. BUT Steve was dead set in helping these poor mentally challenged bastards, and Dan was torn between whatever thoughts of kindness he had and my constant pleas to Steve to "just gun it, and leave the muthafuckas behind!"
So we continued along, the distinct feeling that we were being savagely raped ever growing in my mind.
Eventually the Brits stopped and started honking furiously at us, so we stopped as well. They then pulled along side us and waved a white piece of folded fabric out the window. "Another present, to show our thanks," the braided blonde beamed. Steve humbly accepted this gesture as well, with more than a slight bit of suspicion in his tone.
Yes it had seemed as though Steve's eyes had finally been opened, almost as much as our asses at that point.
"All you have to do to get to Victoria Park is continue up this road," Steve offered stoically.
"Ohh please, can't we just follow you for a bit longer?" pleaded the brutal braided British blond beamingly.
And once more Steve crumbled and we once more set off towards Victoria Park even slower this time. Our British tormentors honking constantly.
"Steve," I calmly began, "We, my good friend, are getting brutally raped! Just gun it, lets leave the behind... let them find their own way!"
Steve kept driving at the same pace... obviously conflicted, halfway between burning rubber and burning us all. His face was racked with tension... he seemed to be fighting his inner demon, "the good guy", for control over the car and our anal virginity. Some part of Steve was still fighting that deeply ingrained Islander instinct to be kind and understanding toward tourists. And we were all paying dearly.
Finally he cracked and pulled over...
The Brits approached us from behind, and pulled abreast of the driverside.
It was at this point that Steve's balls dropped and he mustered up the nerve to ask the "Brits" plain out what the hell was going on.
"Guess what..." the Brits prompted...
"What?" Steve responded.
"You're on candid camera!"
"Candid camera?" Steve asked with a wry smile.
"Yes, that's right," the braided blonde responded all remanents of her accent extinguished. "Do you want to know what time we'll be showing the footage?" she questioned.
At this point I'll admit even my interest had peaked. Yes my sympathetic friends... even your humble narrator was a sucker for seconds.
"The show will be on at 7pm on Fox this Friday," the blonde calmly continued.
"This Friday?" I questioned.... Once more things still didn't add up. #1. What the hell was a US show doing in PEI of all places? #2. Where were all the cameras? #3. How would they be able to film, edit and send the footage up for a complete show in less than two days.
This time I went on the offensive, "Did you say Friday?"
"Yes, Friday at 7:00PM on FOX"
"Candid Camera isn't on at 7:00PM on Friday on Fox" I smugly interjected (bluffing).
"Yes it is." She stumbled.
"No, no it isn't," I asserted firmly.
"Well it is in New Brunswick..." the fake-dye-head-braid-wearing-cum-guzzling-queen stammered.
There ya go folks, a crack. The one solitary gasp of fresh air in the 1 hour ceaseless mauling of your fellow Islanders.
It was at this point that Steve as well leaned into battle by asking them to show us their camera.
"The cameras in the soccer ball," said blond talker defensively while pointing at a harmless miniture soccer ball hanging feebly from a mesh bag.
"Can I see this camera?" Challenged Steve.
"It's a camera, it's attached dumbass!" The bitch responded.
"Have a good night," Steve replied as he dropped the clutch, the tires screamed and we flew away.
It took a second for it all to sink in, then the realization that we had been horribly and brutally raped finally became terribly clear. It was at this point that all the I told you so's in the world couldn't assuage the fierce burning in my rectal region. I felt violated on a level previously uncomprehensible to myself.
Steve was almost beside himself. His cloud had burst, his heart had sunk. He had been mistreated in the fouless of ways, taken advantage of by strangers.... nothing of this magnitude had shook his world since Ronald MacDonald had snuck his greasy fingers down his trousers in the back of the McD's party caboose short years back.*
I'd like to say this is the end, but I'm sure by now that everyone reading this knows this special boy has a long and wearisome road ahead of him.
Picture this... Steve's first car purchase: (a lemon, stolen, from the hells angels...), his first house purchase: (termites, killer mold...situated on the biggest known fault line) and so on. Yes, I fear this is only the beginning friends. So grab some popcorn and some cold ones, and lets sit back and watch.........................
*Charges were cleared against Ronald MacDonald in the alleged incident.
