I draw the line at being tasered

I LOOKED suspiciously at the yellow device on the editor’s polished mahogany table and spluttered: “I really don’t think so. I mean, thanks for thinking of me, but...”

“Come on,” pressed the excited picture editor. “Just hold the Taser to your neck and squeeze the trigger. It’s just a few volts and...”

“One thousand 200 volts,” I pointed out nervously.

“...the designated first aider is on standby with a cup of sweet tea.”

Norman, the designated first aider, is in charge of the newspaper’s vending machines, tasked with ensuring the cabinets are fully stocked with hot drinks and snacks.

When we ran out of Cheesy Nik

Naks he felt faint.

When an employee suffered a deep paper cut, he squealed, “It’s blood” and was violently ill over a keyboard. I have little faith in Norman. Surprisingly, there had not been a stampede following the office call for a volunteer to be Tasered. Even the more ambitious employees shied away from the challenge, one young thing in the features department cooing: “Love too, but I’m allergic to electricity.”

The call followed a national tabloid’s startling story, “This is what happens to your body when Tasered”.

It was spawned by news that criminal stun gun gangs have carried out six Birmingham attacks in five days.

Without appearing to be a know-itall, I’ve got a pretty good idea what happens when 1,200 volts course through your body. You scream, endure spasms and, in some cases, wet yourself.

Nevertheless, the editor felt the full effects needed to be captured on video, possibly under the headline: “WATCH veteran reporter squeal, writhe and wet himself.”

I eyed his cream carpet and insisted: “No, it’s not for me. I’m over 60 and my doctor said, at my age, I should avoid hobbies such as electrocuting myself.”

The picture editor tapped his fingers impatiently on the table and blew his cheeks out in a show of exasperation. “We’re not asking you to sit in an electric chair. It’s perfectly safe – read what it says in the article.”

The story states: “Experts say if you’re perfectly healthy and sober, being tasered will probably hurt a lot for five seconds. Otherwise, you will be left unscathed.

“Moreover, it does not cause permanent damage or long-term after effects to muscles, nerves or other body functions.”

The piece also points out those who are unfit and not sober may experience problems. I am definitely not fit and seldom sober.

“Five seconds!” implored the picture editor. “We’re only asking for five seconds of your time, admittedly five painful seconds.

“It’s an important scientific experiment and you’ve never had a problem playing the office guinea pig before.”

I have “played the office guinea pig” only twice. I tried my hand at morris dancing and tasted the new line in Krispy Kreme doughnuts. I agreed to take part in both safe in the knowledge they would not be followed by such videos as “WATCH elderly Krispy Kreme eater wet himself.”

“Would you prefer it,” pressed the picture editor, “if one of the cleaners administered the shock? She could also clean up afterwards.”

He ushered 67-year-old Mavis, clutching a mop and bucket, into the room and explained what was expected.

The old dear clasped the weapon in trembling hands and aimed it, a bright orange dot dancing dizzily from my forehead, to my right eye, to my throat.

“Just imagine it’s a bottle of Cillit Bang, Mavis,” barked the picture editor.

“That’s enough!” I snapped, rising from my chair and striding to the door. “This is where I draw the line. There is nothing in my contract of employment about being Tasered.

“Wait until our union representative hears about this.”

“She’s still off work after breaking her pelvis while covering the Gloucestershire cheese-rolling championships,” sneered the picture editor. “That girl’s too competitive for her own good. I told her to go down Cooper’s Hill on her stomach.”

A searing pain in my back took hold before I could reach the doorway. My body danced uncontrollably, I screamed out and fell to the ground.

“That was an accident,” tutted the picture editor, removing the two electrodes from my back, “but well done, anyway, Mavis.

“And they’re right, he has had an accident. That’ll appeal to older readers. Whether we blur that puddle out is a question for the video editor.”

“What do you think of the footage?” he asked the cameraman.

“You’ll have to bleep out some of the swear words,” he shrugged, scrutinising the footage,“but, overall, pretty stunning.”