Our own party
Casey had followed Murphy back to his flat. Drunkenly they'd stumbled the half
mile from the Jolly Toper pub to celebrate Murphy's birthday.
'I've got it all organised,' said he, 'we'll have a party just you and I.'
Entering the Murphy domicile Casey spotted the living room table covered in
crates of beer and bottles of whiskey, brandy and rum. On a plate on the side
were two slices of bread.
'Is it a party we're having?' he asked.
'It is so!' answered Murphy.
'Well,' said Casey, 'what's all the bread for?'