MY FIVE BEST FRIENDS

COLE

Countless ginger jokes. She recently got engaged to my boyfriend's best friend (before us and we introcued them!) I told her that if she makes me wear yellow as a bridesmaid's dress then I won't be coming to her wedding. I hope she knows I'm deadly serious.

STEPH

Blonde a skinny little thing I used to be insanely jealous of in school. But the most humble spoilt person I've ever met. Her father bought her a Clio, it wasn't fast enough so he sold it, let her keep the money from the sale and then bought her a new Clio sport. Things like that happen far too often, but personality wise we're so alike that I overlook the fact that she has far too much money and that she should give me some!

ZAYNE

I don't even know if he is my friend anymore. We've not contacted each other in months properly and whenever I've seen him he's with his girlfriend who absolutely hates any of Zayne's friends. The "gothic" game developer (if he saw that I described him as "gothic" he would try to bludgeon me to death with something extremely blunt so the pain would last...) My partner in crime when it comes to writing, my most fond memory would be when we stayed up all night filming a sitcom between plastic toys from Poundland, we never edited it in the end for full release, though the outtakes can be seen here:

PETE

Pete is Zayne's best friend and they are a wacky pair. Zayne being the most extreme athiest I've met and Pete being the most Christian of the Christians. They've decided that is the only thing they will not bring up in arguments as they would never agree. Oh, and they're also not allowed to mention Zayne's bald patch or Pete's skin condition. Pete is a new friend of mine and has made a ridiculous amount of effort with the whole "friendship" thing. He likes the worst things possibly, cheesy music, film's like White Chicks and Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion and Wrestling too, which is a bonus!

EMILY

Emily is fantastic, She's the best friend you've made out here. She's thoughtful, caring and hysterically funny. Well, to you anyway. What Emily falls down on however, is luck. Not even a single unlucky experience. Instead of having bad hair days (hers is always short, fiery and pillar box red) she has bad luck days, where unlucky events seem to follow her. Like she's waiting for a bus and three come along at the same time, and instead of catching the buses they just hit her. Or something like that.

Today, yourself and Emily are helping a friend Missy. A girl who, contrary to her name, is the most boyish girl you know. She has to get a bridesmaid dress. You pick a few out for her and within about half an hour she has found the dress she is going to buy. This is surprising. You and Emily thought it would be the toughest challenge to find your rugby playing, stocky friend a dress that, by the bride's orders had to be periwinkle blue. You succeed in finding a knee length, off the shoulder number that fits Missy beautifully. You liken you and Emily to the 'Trinny and Susannah' of bridemaid's outfits. Missy and Emily look at you strangely. You've done it again. You have to explain the British reference to the Americans and by the time you have, it's lost all it's novelty. You do that far too often.

After choosing this dress, Missy goes elsewhere to have lunch with her parents. You and Emily

get into her car with a strong feeling of accomplishment and the sense that today is going to be fantastic.

Then you're in a car crash.

Not a big crash. Not a BOOM! BANG! type of crash. No explosions, no debris. No death or destruction. No fire, smoke or drama. No pomp. No circumstance. You even have to ask Emily “Did we just hit a curb?” But no. It's a car. You've gently graze-bumped a flashy white jeep. This jeep is owned by a man sporting the most horrific moustache and a pink polo shirt. He begins to go batshit crazy. There are no marks, though. Emily gets out of her car and apologises profusely but he doesn't want to accept any of it. He complains and rants and moans. He proceeds to take down all of her details. In the whirlwind panic of it all Emily forgets to take any photos or record any proof that there actually is no mark or scratch at all. The man will probably try and bill her $400 worth of damage to his bumper and get away with it. She'll probably have to pay it.

Thinking that things can't get much worse she gets back into her car and sulkily drives out of Sioux Falls. Sioux Falls is the town closest to Vermillion and is known as the 'Three State City' because whatever exit you take you end up in a different state. You're meant to go to South Dakota. However, Emily, being Emily, takes a wrong exit without realising. You are blissfully ignorant for about half an hour, at which point you get out the map of South Dakota and try to find road names or anything familiar that may match it. You discover that you aren't in South Dakota. You are in Nebraska. You don't want to be in Nebraska. You were aiming for South Dakota. You have missed. There are no suitable places to turn. You have to keep driving forward. And forward. And forward. You're both getting extremely irritated. You find a right turn and take it in the hope that you can turn around soon.

The road you are on is straight and long, with no end in sight. All you can make out is a vague sloped hill, far off into the distance. In your journey, you are framed on both sides by the breathtaking scenery of Nebraska. Vibrant green and striking yellow patches of grass. Elegantly carpeted nothingness stretching out forever. A blank canvas. You marvel for a moment at how beautiful 'nothing' can be as you push forward.

The road takes around an hour to drive down completely. What once started out so amazing and gorgeous actually turns out to be rather tedious. You eventually find turns and upon seeing the sign saying “Welcome to South Dakota” Emily lets out a roaring “Fuck you, Nebraska!” and gleefully accelerates. It's a lovely evening. What Emily doesn't seem to realise is that there is a red light directly in front of her and a police car directly behind. She drives through the red light while the cop car behind stops. She notices and, not for the first time in the day, panics. She drives down a lane that you're not meant to drive down, almost running over a man having a cigarette (Smoking kills). She's convinced the policeman is chasing behind her so she speeds up ridiculously.

You yell and scream to Emily that “They're gaining on us!” and encourage her to drive erratically until the people tailing you go away. In all the fuss, Emily loses control of herself, the panic subsides and she begins to hysterically laugh. You laugh too. She drives in circles around streets until she lets you convince her that there is no policeman on her tail.

After all of this fuss, Emily really needs to pee. You drive into Walmart and she proceeds to text friends everything that just happened. Also explaining why you are both three hours late getting home. She has her head down. Woman on a mission. She marches into the toilets. She recalls to you later that she glanced up and casually thought to herself “They've put urinals in the women's toilets” She then tells you that she went to use the bathroom and then became aware that, to her horror, there were a group of men entering the toilets looking straight at her. She laughed nervously, mortified, and made a hasty exit.

Needless to say, today wasn't a great day for Emily.