A few years ago, Lazy Ted got lucky in this little bar in Mayfield.
She
was a good-looking girl, too. He drove her around to this park, the
local
lovers' lane, for a little privacy and they were getting along just
fine, when some local louts happened by.
Luckily, all the doors of the car were locked and the larrikins had to
content themselves with rocking it backwards and forwards. Lazy Ted
wasn't going to hang around for any nonsense. He stuck the car into
reverse and revved out of the car park. Bodies scattered in his wake.
He
ended up taking the girl to the safety of a nearby hotel.
Lazy Ted might have forgotten all about the incident but, the very
next
day, as he was watching his wife, Betty, washing the car, you'll never
guess what he saw - a finger, just sitting there in the grille in
front of
the motor.
Well, he shook his head and was about to tell Betty to put it in, the
rubbish, when she stopped him short. 'That finger must belong to
someone.
We'd better take it down the road to the Lost and Found. You'd be
surprised what they can do with microsurgery these days.'
Lazy Ted followed his missus down to the local cop shop where they
were
extra helpful. While Betty was out of ear shot, he told them the full
story - exactly what happened, how, when, where and why.
Afterwards, Lazy Ted went home and forgot all about the whole business
until one day, this cop came to the door and presented him with this
little frozen container ... and in it -the finger.
'According to Section 4 of Article 8 of the Mislaid Articles Act of
1893,'
the cop spouted off 'found goods, if unclaimed by the owner and the
loser
of the aforementioned lost goods, after a period of three months,
should
be returned to the finder, who will be thereafter considered the
owner and
therefore the loser, in the event of the goods ever being re-lost.'
Lazy Ted didn't really know what to do, but he took the finger and
thanked
the cop for his trouble. He told Betty to put it in the freezer.
Soon afterwards, the phone calls started. A man, his voice deep,
husky and
mean, would ring and say, 'You got my finger. You better give it back
... or
you'll get rubbed.'
Night after night, the same man rang with the same message. Then,
during the day, the Health Department started ringing and a man with a
high, piping voice, would tell Ted, 'Keeping a finger in your freezer
contravenes Section 1, Article 12, of the Body Parts in the Kitchen
Act of
1923, and if you persist in infringing this regulation, we will be
forced
to carry out immediate legal action.'
The final straw was when the surgeon started calling up daily, too.
'Listen, we get kids in here every day, with their fingers missing -
car
accidents, gun accidents ... you name it. Some will never be able to
use
their hands again. With that finger, you could at least help one ...
just
one of them.'
Finally, it got too much for Betty. 'Listen Ted, do something. Give
that finger back to the gangster. Give it to the Health Department.
Even
give it to the hospital. Just get rid of it. It's no use to US.
But it was all to no avail. Lazy Ted wouldn't hear of it. You know
what
he's like. He'd never lift a finger to help himself or anyone else.
