Jack Sprat could eat a horse, he was so hungry. But neither he nor his wife had been to Tesco, so the brand new George Foreman lean, mean grilling machine they'd bought with their clubcard points stood gathering dust.
And so between them they hatched a plan. With nothing in the cupboards, and with both Mr and Mrs Sprat needing to shed a few pounds to say the least, they'd be able to eat a hearty dinner and lose weight at the same time. Firing up the George Foreman, Jack took out his hunting knife, and with spittle dripping from his lips, deftly carved a man sized portion from Mrs Sprats backside.
'Ooo you old teaser Jack!' she giggled, as her husband passed her the knife to return the favour.
A slightly smaller cut for her, but a lovely piece of meat nonetheless, and as their homemade, hand carved rump steaks sizzled and cooked to perfection, they simply stuffed their new arseholes with kitchen towel (Juan Sheet does plenty, remember) and and sat carefully down to dinner.
Replete and pleased with themselves for their ingenuity, though slightly sore, they licked the George Foreman clean, leaving their tongues looking like pork scratchings in the process.
My, how they laughed!
They were a funny old pair, the Sprats.
God only knows what they had for dessert...
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