Keep it in next time
Just recalled a moment with the in-laws.

T'was my first Christmas with Mrs. Badger's family. Mother in law Badger has put on an incredible spread of most of the meats available on God's green Earth with a plentiful supply of roasted veg and sprouts. Followed up with a large degree of cider, wine and spirits, I'm soon feeling the signs of a large gas attack in the murky depths of the bowels.

'Goddamnit Foxy, you can't,' thought your author. 'You've been with this lass nearly a year now. Need to keep this family impressed as they already hate their other son in law enough. Talk about cars or something. Father in law Badger surely must like cars.'

Before I could begin reciting whatever pompous opinion had emerged from Jeremy Clarkson's mouth the previous Sunday and pretending I gave a shite about any monstrosity with wheels, said father in law Badger releases upon the world his contribution of the evening as it rattles the very foundations of the building.

It was like the growl of Cerberus with the nasal devesation capabilities of a rotting corpse. If you've ever tried to grow a potato in a jar of water, forgotten about it for a month and returned to find it got bored and turned into mash of its own accord, that's what we were facing.

Thinking that while the family were overcoming said reeking odour I was off the hook, I decided to let out a silent but deadly in hope it would slip under the radar.

At which point father in law stopped dead and gave me the most solemn 'have you been buggering my daughter' gaze I've ever seen. We haven't really talked since.

Probably because I was. Ground please eat me now.
(FoxyBadger (try saying it backwards), Fri 28 Nov 2008, 10:38, Reply)