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Accident with a Texan

Murphy was driving the horse and trap home from the pub on a warm summer's evening. Beside him sat Toby the labrador, great guard dog and constant friend. Suddenly the still of the evening was rent by a tremendous engine noise and round the tight bend in the country lane came a huge Mercedes car doing at least seventy miles an hour. Behind the wheel sat a red-faced Texan who chewed a fat cigar and drummed his fat fingers on the dashboard in time to the ear-splitting quadrophonic car radio. Too late the American realised he couldn't pass Murphy and the cart on the narrow tarmac strip - too late he realised he should have braked thirty yards ago.

Too late the Mercedes car smashed into the cart scattering horse, dog and Murphy to various points of the compass.

As Murphy lay in a daze bemoaning his fate, he saw the Texan go over to the stricken horse. Realising its legs were broken the Yank drew out a .45 pistol and shot the beast dead. Going over to Toby the dog, it was obvious that its back was broken - 'bang', a second shot rang out, ending Toby's misery.

With that the big Texan came over to Murphy.

'Hey buddy, are you all right?' he asked.

'As God is my judge,' muttered ashen-faced Murphy, 'I've never felt better in my life!'

 
 


 
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