About ten years ago I had a job as an IT engineer working with a group of lads. We all generally got on fairly well and were all a similar age.
Every week or so we’d go to the local Sainsbury’s and get a whole hot roasted chicken each and eat them sitting at our desks. Quite grotty and greasy they were, but cheap and chickeny.
We all had a cup of tea each, and Jason’s always looked disgusting. He liked it weak with at least an inch of full-fat milk, so it was really pale with a slight oily film of milk fat on top.
Apparently, he liked it like that.
To me, this was the perfect invitation. When he wasn’t looking, I pulled the flappy bum bit off my chicken and plopped it into his tea, sinking out of sight. The oily residue from the bum was happily disguised by the disgusting milk film on top, giving it the perfect hiding place.
I sort of half forgot about it until about 15 minutes later when I heard him squeak, jump back off his chair and drop his mug on the floor, the last thing he expected to see peeking at him from the bottom of his mug was the greasy grotty chicken’s bum flap.
I did this a couple of times after that, the first of which was another surprise to him, but then it became a standard thing to do whenever we went chicken shopping.
Served him right for having weak greasy milky tea like that.
Silly little man.
