The Phantom

Discussion in 'Diamond Lil's' started by 2_deck_dash, Nov 27, 2009.

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  1. Every ship has one, a stealy eyed rating (or officer) who leaves poo in random places.

    Who knows where the Phantom will strike next? Outside the Skipper's cabin perhaps? Or maybe in your oppo's bats or cap?

    Once I was carrying out a set of WE rounds during the middle and I went into a compartment and all was well. As I left the compartment I slipped over in a freshly placed nugget that had not been there just 2 minutes earlier, the Phantom had struck again. I looked around for the culprit but he had vanished into thin air.

    No one is safe from him it seems and now he has struck again, at my civilian place of work. The dirty cnut has been wrapping Cleveland Steamers up in bog paper and hiding them behind the radiator.

    It is only a matter of time until the Chairman opens his desk drawer to find a solidified log festering within.

    Personally I reckon it is the ex bootneck who works here.

    Spin your Phantom dits here:
  2. During baltops, the phantom used strike on the ladders outside the wrens mess. It used to cheer me up on the way to the flying brief seeing the aftermath of wrens covering faces and nearly crying.

    All respect to the phantom.
  3. Phantom shitter on BRISTOL used seal one end of an empty toilet roll then shit in it and place it under the loo seat, next occupant would drop his kecks sit down on the seat and out would pop the brown admiral straight into his knicks only got caught once - bastard!!
  4. PMSL :D
  5. Fcuking genius!!
  6. Although I wasn't there at the time, it has been recounted to me that on HMS Newcastle, the Phantom's antics were so proliferous that in a vain attempt to put a stop to his reign of terror, the XO ordered the removal of the doors from each of the traps in the JR's heads.

    A few days went by with the lads having to shit in zero privacy. This merely angered the Phantom more and he upped his game, targeting the XO in particular, leaving presents in his cap and the like. Eventually the Phantom was so threaders he removed the doors from the Wardroom heads and threw them in the oggin.

    Within days the Jimmy had put the doors in the JR's heads back, minus two for the Weirdroom.

    Since the ship was on ops on Sierra Leone at the time and ended up diverting to the Gulf, the deployment became forever known as the 'two wars and no bog doors' trip.
  7. It was rumoured that the same tw*t used to have a posh wank in a johhny then leave the fecker hanging on the inside of the shithouse door so when you closed the door and shut the latch you got a gert handful of cold jizz makes me gag now thinkin about it
  8. HMS Kent (the GMD not they type 23) the phantom curled on down in my "starboard" steaming boot. Trouble was I didn't notice until I put my boots on......
    His other trick was to wrap one up in a rag, replace the rag in the rag bin and leave it for some unsuspecting stoker to grab.
  9. Good drills! :lol:
  10. Mid-80's, AB (M) named S****y took over for his LifeBuoy Spook trick on the Ark's Quarterdeck, and the lad he relieved went along to a berthing bay and done a comm's check with him. S****y then proceeded to put a sperm-filled phone earpiece to his ear. The lad he'd relieved had cracked one off into the thing, the dirty bástard. 8O

    I felt sick when I heard about it. :cry:
  11. Blackrat

    Blackrat War Hero Moderator Book Reviewer

    Site guard, which was looking after missile silos in Germany, was always a fecking hoot. If you were one of the first jiffed to go up in one of the towers, you would spend the first hour or so checking every nook and cranny for the sock filled with shit. These were usually located behind the radiators that were cranked up to the max to let the elegant perfume waft through the tower. However, if you took over from a jock regiment, there would usually be shit everywhere, the filthy heathens.

    Back on thread, we had a bloke in the block who would crimp one out in any footwear he found lying around. This was always amusing when a fresh faced sprog rocked up and left his boots etc under his bed and was taken to the NAAFI/Squadron bar to get royally shitfaced, only to return and find a nest of dogs eggs in most of his shoes. Never did find out who it was.
  12. Well he has struck again over the weekend. Our cleaner came in this morning to find a neatly laid egg on the top of the (closed) toilet seat.

    Does he target other civvy workplaces, or is just here?
  13. When I first came out the mob I worked in a factory for three weeks, and there were about five other ex navy, along with about thirty civvies.
    Every dinner time without fail one boring b*stard would say "I wonder what sh1t she's given me today"?
    Yes you guessed it one day he opens his scran box and hey presto, the phantom had called.
    Six ex's rolling on the deck cheesed down, thirty civvies jumping on the outrage bus.
  14. The Phantom rarely makes mistakes but he was seriously caught out at Raleigh once through his own stupidity.

    After finding a a neatly cheesed down a cable in the Wren's block one evening, the duty PO was so disgusted, she mustered the entire division for a little 'chat'.

    She explained that the poo was being sent to sickbay for DNA testing. She proceeded to explain that if the Phantom owned up now it would be much easier for everyone and he (or she) would suffer a considerably lesser punishment especially since the cost of DNA testing would not have to be included in any fines.

    A young and particularly stupid scouse lad stepped forward and owned up. It hadn't occured to him that the RN didn't have any DNA samples on record and that the mob would not go to the trouble of tesing the whole of the division for the sake of one poo.
  15. On the Kent about 74 up north on a NATO ex somebody did one during the mid watch outside K gen door, then in Chats behind the ladder of the enginers flat
  16. At Collingrad someone used to do them in the spin dryer and showers and baths in our block.

    We never did find out the culprit.
  17. Phantom sh1tter,......... sound's more like serial diarrhoea 8O :D :wink:
  18. Not a dit about the Phantom as such but one that is vaguely related as it is about shit, yes I said shit, this is a shit dit that happened to me this very morning.

    After an epic weekend of drunken japery which included going to watch Chelsea vs Everton on Saturday, courtesy of Tickets for Troops, and bumping into my old Chief. I also went to see Russell Howard at Wembley last night which was awesome.

    Anyway I digress. After much liquid refreshment and the weekend's healthy diet of a kebab, Dominoes Pizza, half a roast dinner at my Nan's and some cheese on toast, it all caught up with me this morning and I had to carry out a full unload in the 'executive lounge' at work.

    As I ran into the bog and sat down I let out the biggest, greasiest, most foul, grotty Bungle's finger I have ever encountered in my life, had it not been for it's sloppy consistency, I surely would've removed it and had it mounted on a plaque. Anyway after I had finished congratulating myself, I started the cleanup operation and reached for the ass wipes.

    I took a nice fistful of Andrex and began what I hoped would be a fairly simple course of events. Unfortunately I hadn't bargained on there being a small nugget left dangling from one of my arse hairs and as I wiped my slightly stinging hoop I managed to smear this offending straggler all over myself. Somehow I had manged to smear shit up my back, all over my crack, accross both arse cheeks and all along my twern and over my balls.

    As I tried to wipe it away I simply smeared it further around and as I neared the last sheet of bog roll I realised I was in some serious trouble. I sat there for a moment wallowing in my own self pity and shit whilst trying to work out a plan of action. I waited for a quiet moment and snuck into the next cubicle, trousers around my ankles with my shirt held under my chin as not to let it hang in the horror that was smeared all up my back. I grabbed another roll of Andrex and started to work my way through that as well.

    Slowly but surely I started to get somewhere and as the shit started to dry, less and less residue apeared on the paper. It was far from over however, I knew that unless I had a dhobi quickly I would have that uncomfortable sticky feeling for the rest of the day, not to mention writing off another pair of Calvin Kleins.

    I realised that there were other people in the other cubicles now so rushing to the sink for a quick bum dhobi was well and truly out of the question. Thinking on my feet, I lifted the lid off the cistern and climbed up to give my balloon knot a cooling dip. It wasn't by any means comfortable but I managed to remove nearly all the residue and used the remaining bog roll and the middle pages from a discarded copy of the Sun to dry off and clean up.

    I left the cubicle feeling fresh and comfortable and went back to my desk feeling content and happy. Another successful mission on my part and some valuable lessons learned in the process.
  19. 2DD you deserve a bonus, me I'd have took a sicky and fcuked off home for proper reem of my sphincter assisted by my good wife or daughter if she was home on leave
  20. People that use to leave there kit loafing in Norway tend to get a present from the phantom. A nice frozen solid terd....nice

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