I worked for a cable TV provider..
.. back in my days of lacklustre employment.
I was partnered up with an arborial looking chimpanzee of a man called Carl.

Carl used expletives at every other word and had an aversion to deodorant or male grooming.

Our job was to splice into the street cable and run a spur into the subscriber's domicile, presenting it inside in the form of a wallbox into which the site team could cable up the Set Top Box and tune in etc.

Carl had decided that he wanted to spend the afternoon in the pub, so we had rattled through our morning job in 1.5 hours, and had driven like starsky and hutch over to our second job, run the cable and Carl was drilling through the wall of the house to run it inside.

I was walking up the path when Carl came running out of the house shouting "The f-fuckin' fish, man, the f-fish!!" and ran out of the gate, jumped in the van and disappeared at speed over the horizon.

I went into the lounge of the property to find the carpet slightly wet underfoot and some of the owners tropical fish flipping wildly on it.

And then it clicked. In his haste to rush off to his afternoon's libations, Carl hadnt bothered to check where his drill hole would come out and had indescriminately drilled into the outside wall, and pierced the owners tropical fish tank, which had exploded outward onto the carpet draining the tank of it's water and robbing the fish of their home.

The owner was angrily telephoning customer services and threatening all flavours of legal action as I walked quietly out of his house and up the garden path.
(Vic Flange, Thu 25 Oct 2007, 14:16, Reply)