I’m dying of laughter.
My youngest brother phoned to borrow some money off me. While I nagged him for a bit, he started laughing. I asked what was so funny. He said it wasn’t me; it was what happened last night.
My brother’s a uni student and living at our old house in Worcestershire, but he’s spent quite a bit of time at his uni friends’ shared houses that were much nearer to university and the student’s union bar.
Last night, he was staying at a friend’s where the flatmates decided to go on a pub crawl. One of those flatmates decided to honour my brother by wearing a kilt. Ally didn’t have the heart to tell him that our family completely reject that Scottish icon so he said nowt. The flatmate took it further by not wearing anything beneath the kilt, like “a true Scot”.
After a successful pub crawl and a spin-round at the student’s union bar, they returned to the house with some student girls they met at the bar in tow.
As it happened, the living room was also a bedroom (which is typical of a student shared house), belonging to the kilted student. So, some sat on chairs, some on the floor and the kilted flatmate on his own bed. After nattering for a bit, someone suggested buying some booze from an off-licence. The kilted flatmate volunteered to do a run.
Ally said it was obvious that the kilted flatmate didn’t want anyone to see his naked nether regions, so he slid across his bed to the bed edge so that his kilt still covered his front. He then leapt up and bounced out of the room with a happy whistle. Just then, Ally finally understood the meaning of this phrase ‘pregnant pause’ as he and the others, for about ten seconds, stared at the kilted flatmate’s bed.
On the area of the duvet cover where the kilted flatmate had slid across, there was a long smudge of something brown.
Once the realisation sank in, the room exploded with a few rounds of “Oh, my god!” and “That’s disgusting!” from female visitors. Male flatmates fell about with hysterical laughter. Someone eventually tossed a t-shirt onto bed to cover the smudge.
Ten minutes or so later, the kilted flatmate returned with a plastic carrier of booze. Everyone in the room fell silent for a moment, then reacted with a fit of suppressed laughter. The kilted flatmate smiled in puzzlement and asked, “Whusup?”
This is where Ally had a fit of helpless laughter while telling me this story. I gritted teeth while waiting for the laughter to die. Finally, he continued:
A girl – Lucy, the one whom the kilted flatmate had been chasing all night – stood up and said, “You need to learn to wipe your bum hole properly, that’s whusup!” Straight after that, she left the house with her friends in tow.
The kilted flatmate looked confused until an allegedly kind-hearted flatmate yanked the t-shirt off the bed, revealing the smudge to the poor bastard.
Apparently, the kilted flatmate hasn’t yet emerged from his bedroom since last night. While I was laughing helplessly while feeling sorry for the poor bloke, my brother went on to say: “And you know what’s the worst part? Lucy’s on his [uni] course.”