Nappies and Maggots
Two stories spring to mind here. Apologies in advance for length.

Story #1: Several years ago, my dad used to live next door to a quiet elderly couple. They mostly kept to themselves, and nobody had a problem with them.

One day we heard a knock on the door. It was the old woman, looking rather nervous. She said her husband'd had an accident, and could we call an ambulance. My dad did so, then went next door to see what he could do. Some time later the old chap was being helped into an ambulance, and my dad returned.

Naturally I was curious as to what had happened, but my dad wouldn't say. This merely mad eme more curious and as we sat at the dinner table (probably the wrong place, to be honest) I kept asking him, but he kept replying that he "didn't want to talk about it".

Eventually my dad snapped, stood up, threw down his knife and fork and yelled "He showed me a nappy full of shit and blood! There, happy now?" and stormed off upstairs, leaving his dinner half eaten. To this day he still hates being reminded of it, and I can't say I blame him.

Story #2: Just a few weeks ago, the time to move out of my shared student house. I'd been living at home for the past few weeks anyway, so all that remained was to finish moving the things out of my room. When I got there however, I found that the last two occupants (the two lasses, especially the fat, lazy, obnoxious one who I hated) had decided to leave the kitchen full of dirty washing up and rubbish bags*, presumably thinking that I (being the last to leave) would deal with it.

'Bugger that,' I thought, 'I'm not tidying up their mess, but just for the sake of hygiene, I will move these bags of rubbish out of the kitchen.'

It wasn't too hard to move the bags to the wheelie bin outside, until it came to the bag inside the kitchen bin. My grandad was helping me with my moving, at it was he who had the misfortune to lift the bag out of the bin.

Coming into the kitchen I saw him standing there, holding up a bag, from the bottom of which was dribbling a horrible brown liquid onto the kitchen floor. The smell alone nearly made me sick, and then I saw the maggots dropping out of the bag.

We got rid of the bag, opened the windows, mopped the floor and used the best part of an air freshener can in an attempt to get rid of the smell. The landlord, when told what we'd had to deal with, was not happy with the others, and neither was I.

*The person in charge of putting out the rubbish had been one of the first to move out, and presumably the others had assumed that since they'd never had to do it before, they didn't need to start now. This means that the bag in the bin had been there for probably about a month. As I said, I wasn't there, so I've got an excuse. They haven't. Bastards.
(Uncle Comrade, Fri 22 Jun 2007, 12:18, Reply)