Tasmanian Devil

Australian farmer picture

Tom sat on the porch of his new Tasmanian home, gazing dreamily at his acres of untamed land.  Retirement had been busier than expected, he thought, if perhaps a little lonely, but he didn't mind: he'd been in the police for twenty-five long years and had had enough of humanity.  He saw the postman once a week, got groceries once a month, and apart from that enjoyed a blissful peace and quiet.

So it was with some trepidation that he observed the approaching figure scuff slowly through the dirt towards his home and stop in font of him: a tall, bearded man, covered in dust.

"Name's Cliff," said the man, "your neighbour from forty miles up the road. Having a Christmas party Friday night. Thought you might like to come.  About 5pm..."

Tom hesitated, reluctant to disturb his solitude, but since the man had walked forty miles, he replied, "Sure. After six months out here I'm ready to meet some local folks.  Thank you.'

The man turned to go, but then said, "Gotta warn you. Be some drinking."

"Not a problem," replied Tom. "After 25 years in the business, I can drink with the best of 'em."

Again, the big man started to leave, but then stopped. "More 'n likely gonna be some fighting' too."

'Well," replied Tom, smiling at the old timer.  "I get along with people, I'll be all right! I'll be there. Thanks."

The man shuffled his feet, looking at the ground, and then said, "More 'n likely be some wild sex, too."

Tom was a bit taken aback, but then replied, "Now that's really not a problem.  I've been all alone for six months! I'll definitely be there... By the way, what should I wear?"

"Don't much matter," replied the old man.  "Just gonna be the two of us."
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