My dad tortured us with this, my turn now
Erik the Viking was ruthless, brave and above all extremely rich. A long career of pillage and plunder had engorged his coffers to the point where he felt able to retire and enjoy his loot. He had more than his wife, Erika, could concievably spend and as all men know that is the very definition of success. He was happy.

He'd accumulated a few decent scars along the way but by far his worst injuries were his two sightless eyes, courtesy of a particularly brave fishwife whom he'd taken a shine to on a raiding trip in Grimsby.

After hanging up his raiding axe and returning his open-crotched raping pants to their shelf for the last time he decided he needed a project. So, beginning a long tradition of rich bastards with time on their hands (and providing the foundation of Kevin McCloud's TV career) he commissioned a mighty house.

Bricklayers, architects, stonemasons and carpenters toiled for years under his refreshingly decisive project management. Aesthetic aspects were left to Erika; shouting and punishment beatings were his department.

Then, after ten years (and more than a few avoidable accidents) the house was completed. Truly this was a building that both challenged, and sat in absolute harmony with, its environment.

Erika toured the building with the lead contractors to make sure all was well before allowing her hot-tempered husband in. Stepping over tools, buckets, pallets of bricks and other construction detritus the team made their way through the house. Upon coming to the kitchen Erika immediately noticed some work unfinished!

"You bloody oik, you've left the sink out!"

"Ah, sorry miss E, but you wanted this fancy Poggenpohl jobby and it's not like Germany's next door you know. Will be here in a few weeks. I'm sure you can manage."

"No I can't sodding well manage. Think of something quick, he'll be round soon and although the bastard's got no eyes he'll notice soon enough if he turns the tap on and his feet get wet!"

The contractor, thinking quickly to avoid an axeing, grabbed a brickie's hod propped up against the wall and, sure enough, it fitted the gap perfectly. He got out a hand drill and cut a drainage hole. A bit of silicone sealant and a lick of varnish later and the job was done.

"How about that then miss E? That do you? I mean, everyone knows that a hod's as good as a sink to a blind Norse."
( Scrumper, Thu 5 Mar 2009, 16:31, Reply)