Good As New


The old woman smiled with satisfaction as a loud scream emanated from the bedroom.  She had finally taught him a lesson, the old farter, after 30 years of noxious fumes every morning in bed and dismissive laughter at her pleas that he stop.

But he was not laughing now, not with the innards of the Sunday chicken stuffed into his underpants. She heard the bed springs creak frantically, followed by heavy footsteps as her husband ran downstairs.  He entered the kitchen, his face ashen and his hands covered with blood.

"My God, May," he gasped. "You were right. I finally shat my guts out!"

The old woman did her best not to laugh, and carried on stuffing the chicken.

"But it's OK," he continued. "A bit of Vaseline and they were all shoved back in to place, good as new."

Now listen here!


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