The following Dodgers have been smited by the JDK for their crimes against Jam:
All the girls! for picking on the JDK and damaging his already delicate self esteem!
The Basserd Who Nicked Copper's Stuff For the offense of nicking Copper's stuff. You are a tw*t, whoever you are and we all hope you get run over by a tram in Nottingham. Or Liverpool. Or whereever else they have trams!
Copper For the crime of playing with her Wii instead of her Jammie pals!
...I think I'd want the ability to turn people into kittens. Imagine the scene...
I'm walking down the road, minding my own business when some poorly dressed berk with a clipboard, too many piercings and an inability to get a proper job stops me to ask pointless questions about the environment or the plight of orphans in a country I've never heard of in the vain hope that I'll be moved enough to part with my details so that he can then send me endless pamphlets and demands for cash.
"Hello sir, how are you doing?" he'd ask - the current tactic is to rely on the automatic polite response from most english people.
"Fine," I'd say, without breaking my stride and, most importantly, not making eye contact.
"Can you spare a moment for the enviroment?" he'd ask, doing an odd crab-like sideways walk to keep up with me.
"Not really," I'd say, speeding up slightly.
"How about the orphans?" he'd ask.
"Still no," I'd say.
"Mew", he'd say, dodging his clipboard as it drops to the floor. "Mrrowr," he'd add as he spots a sweet wrapper blowing in the breeze and pounces on it. "Meep," he'd conclude as he tires of the sweet wrapper and looks for something to eat...
I think I'd go with the ability to alter my size. In a similar scenario ....
"Hello sir, how are you doing?" he'd ask - the current tactic is to rely on the automatic polite response from most english people. "Fine," I'd say, without breaking my stride and, most importantly, not making eye contact. "Can you spare a moment for the enviroment?" he'd ask, doing an odd crab-like sideways walk to keep up with me as I grow another foot taller "Not really," I'd say, speeding up slightly, still increasing in size. "How about the orphans?" he'd ask. "Still no," I'd say as I reach the optimimum 74' talle. "Gblurr", he'd say, as my now massive foot grinds him into the pavement. Shaking off the blood and gore I gradually decrease in size to my, now preferred, 6' 2".
