Anyway at closing time Gilbert had flaked out on the bar stool with his head in the ashtray after every one had left the land lord woke him up and walked him to the door and layed him on the bench outside locked up and went to bed, about 3 in the morning Gilbert woke up again. Freezing his bollocks off and soaking wet, it was pissing down now it was a 2 mile drive up the narrow lanes to get back home, so Gilbert started the tractor and set off, still completely pissed, anyway he got about half a mile up the road zig zagging all the way then he spotted the gate on his left hand side and remembered as a young lad he used to cut through there on foot and across 2 fields would bring him out home so off he went round the outside of the field driving into the blackthorn hedge many times, into the second field and strait into the duck pond right outside the cottage his mrs was living in with the batty girl he fell of the tractor it over turned and crushed his pelvis and smashed his hip the 2 girls heard his cry and rushed out the house in just knickers and bra and managed to pull him out, gertroid the batty girl called the medics who turned up with sirens blaring and blue lights flashing they couldn’t believe there eyes what was in front of them, two fat birds in there under crackers tending to a pissed bloke that looked like a porcupine and claret every where, anyway back to the hip joint coz I always took the piss out of him my dear old uncle Gilbert left it to me in his will, he died of a broken heart, and that’s why it’s a sad story
