Why does this exist? After receiving the brief to create a publication about something you collect, naturally both our minds went to our rather extensive LEGO Minifigure collections. However we had not counted on having to work in groups of 3 - CURVE BALL. I know right. The dynamic duo. The graphic design bros. The gruesome twosome. In a three way? We quickly decided to let down our third wheel gently by recommending they join another group as they probably wouldn’t enjoy working with us because we’re into some ‘heavy shit’. This wasn’t true and was in fact a simple ploy to not have to admit to someone (probably a girl) that we wanted to create a publication about our rather vast LEGO Minifigure collections - saving us one potentially awkward, sexually frustrating situation. But as the groups were picked for us … we ended up getting the new girl. CURVE BALL. AGAIN. We agreed that we couldn’t ‘palm off’ the new girl as it seemed like it was crossing a social boundary even for us. Instead we acted like mature adults and explained the situation. We said “Here’s where we are, Sally (her name was Sally). We’ve come up with an idea of what we want to base our magazine on… because we both collect the same thing. But we reckon it won’t really appeal to you. Maybe we could come up with some more ideas together?” Sally asked what we collected. We scratched our heads and shifted uncomfortably. And then like a couple of creepy undead identical twins from any horror film ever, we said in perfect unison, “Lego”. We closed our eyes, held our breath and clenched our bum cheeks expecting the worst. It was then that Sally said the last words we were expecting to hear. “LETS GET NAKED!” No not those words, but these. “I collect LEGO too!” We looked at each other speechless. Unsure whether she was speaking true or playing us false. Was this in fact some cruel jape? Our questions were answered when she initiated high fives all round. That was sorted then. A magazine about LEGO Minifigures where we recount the interesting, yet somewhat embarassing tales of being an enthusiast.
50 Yellow Men
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