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Vice Blog

LONDON - HOW I CRIPPLED MY BOSS

Katie works in the office bellow ours. Her intern, Billy, wrote up this report for us on how she crippled her boss and ruined her life (for a minimum of five weeks).

Billie: I'm not sure what’s worse; the fact that my boss, Katie, broke her leg in three places during a bout of erratic dancing with yours truly, or that I didn’t believe she had a serious injury and left her in a dark corner of a bar for about twenty minutes on her own, incapable of moving?

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Nine Inch Nails: A Diary of Events

It all started when we went to see The Invisible at Puregroove. Katie watched them play as though they were her three sons, graduating from university. We had some celebratory drinks then thought it would be a great idea to go to the Sam Taylor Wood launch party. I mean, that sure sounds like fun, right?

22.00 – Katie: "Where are we again? Wait, which way is Old Street? Which way is North?
Let me lick my finger and see which way the wind’s blowing. Sun sets in the‚ĶLet’s get a taxi"

A few hours and a few rounds later takes us up to when the incident took place. Me and Katie were sporting an array of white girl classics: the ‚Äòtwist ‚Äòn’ hand hold’, the ‚Äòflick your hair till you’re dizzy’, the ‚Äòhalf-hearted Beyonce’, you know the drill. About this point she fell on her ass but everyone assumed that she’d had one too many so left her in a seat to cool off.

00.00 - Rodaidh: "Katie always does stuff like this when she’s pissed. It sort of cramps
            my style. Kinda feel like I’m letting down the Cocadisco fans"

It took us about half an hour to realize that Katie was immobile. I had to call an ambulance and someone from Kompakt had to carry her upstairs and lay her down on the pavement like a scene from some sort of hobo honeymoon. It was terrible.

00.45 – Billie: "Poor Katie. Her foot looks gross. Being in an ambulance is a sort of
             traumatic end to a night out"

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The results from Katie’s x-ray came back and she’d fucked up her leg pretty bad. They took loads of blood whilst she squeezed my hand. It was sort of like what I imagine child-birth will be like for me.

When they were injecting Katie with morphine, I started feeling sort of woozy. I woke up to a couple of nurses patting my chubby cheeks, and saying my name. Sure, Katie had broken her leg in three places, but I had to watch them jab syringes in her arm over and over. The sight of her blood worked faster on me than the drugs did on her. I swear to God. Katie frantically phoned her best friend who happens to be a doctor, and bitched at every member of staff at UCH.

A couple of days later Katie went into theatre for her operation which involved sticking loads of metal into her foot. I was hoping for something magnetic, but no joy. Another month and she gets her cast off. I’m looking forward to seeing how skinny her dead leg is after the bones have healed, and upon the result, choosing whether or not to hobble myself in order to lose weight.

I’ve recommended that she approaches the publishers responsible for the Richard Hammond Classic, ‚ÄòOn The Edge ‚Äì My Story’, or at least files for compensation, but she’s too nice.

Here is a bonus artist’s interpretation of the evening:

Billie JD Porter