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Half a lettuce

Donal O'Donnell took pride in his new job as shop assistant in Ryan's greengrocer's shop. Every customer so far was a nice person, easily served and easily pleased. Too soon young Donal started to become complacent. 'Nothing to this job,' he thought. 'Piece of cake, money for jam.'

Then it happened. In the door came Big Mick McGrath, straight from the pub and weighed down with the vino collapse. He drew himself up to his full six feet six inches and said:

'I would like to buy half a lettuce - for cash of course.'

'Oh no,' smiled O'Donnell. There's no chance. We never sell half lettuces, how ridiculous. Half a cucumber you can have, even half a cauliflower, but half a lettuce, no way.'

'Look,' said Big Mick, gripping young Donal by the lapels and drawing him off his feet. 'I want half a lettuce and there's two ways I can get it. One is nicely wrapped and handed to me by you. The other is over your dead body. Now what's it going to be - eh?'

'Excuse me, sir,' said Donal, 'but you see, this isn't my establishment. I'll have to nip round the back and ask the boss.'

Swiftly he dashed behind the curtain and into the back of the shop, little realising that Big Mick was following him.

'Mr Ryan,' he said, 'there's a great big fat ugly feller outside in the shop. He's got scars all over his face and muscles in his spit. And boy, is he thick. He's asking for half a lettuce.'

Just then O'Donnell spotted Big Mick and went on quickly:

'And this nice gentleman would like the other half!'


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