At the fervent request of all Groaner fans (well both of them, to be perfectly honest) I am repeated my Beeb Groaner about old Ted.
I apologise to those of you who never wanted to see it again, and if any of you have become bored at my attempts at humour please say so and I shall dessist forthwith.
I would add that the first attempt at posting was rejected as being too long, so the tale now appears in two parts.
Old Ted was at the end of his tether. His problem was that the delightful youg girl he had so happily married forty years ago had, slowly but surely, become the most dreadful termagent. Certainly, when he first married he had expected a bit of mild nagging, because it is in woman`s nature to nag to some extent, but Ted`s missus had got steadily worse and worse until she was making his life a misery. It wasn`t so bad when he was still working because he could always do a bit of overtime to keep out of her way, but since he retired last year there was no escaping her. If he stayed in the house she followed him around criticising him all the time and finding fault with everything he did, and if he wanted to go out she played merry hell with him for wanting to go out without her. There was no pleasure in taking her out because all she did was berate him in public for all his imaginary faults, and now that it was late autumn she wouldn`t even let him go down to the lottie because she insisted that nothing grew in the winter anyway. The only time he could escape was when he took the dog out for a walk and slipped into the pub.
One evening, he was sitting in the pub, dog at his feet, sobbing silently into his beer, when Jim, one of his old workmates came in and saw him. Jim came over, looked at him, and said "What on earth`s the matter, Ted? You look as miserable as a wet Sunday in Stoke-on-Trent". Old Ted started to tell Jim his troubles, and the more he told the easier it became to tell, and the words came tumbling out, pausing only while Jim went to get him another pint, and when he had finished he said "I just can`t go on like this any longer Jim. What on earth am I to do?"
Jim thought for a minute or two, then said "There`s only one thing for it. You`ll have to get rid of her." "What, you mean divorce?" asked Old Ted. "No, that`s no good" said Jim. "She`d never agree, and even if she did, she`d take you for every penny you`ve got - pension and all. No. You`ll just have to kill her, or, at least, have her killed". For a moment or two old Ted was absolutely horrified at the suggestion, but the more he thought about it the more attractive the idea became, and it wasn`t long before he`d convinced himself that Jim was right. "But I just wouldn`t know how to set about arranging it, Jim" he said. "I couldn`t do it myself, and I`ve no idea how to find someone else to do it, or even how much it would cost". Jim said "Well, there are always people prepared to do that sort of thing if the money`s right. Matter of fact, I know a bloke. He was in the S.A.S for years, doing all sorts of dodgy semi-official duties in all sorts of dodgy places, and I know that after he finished his service he did a few jobs just to keep his hand in. Lives quite near me. Tell you what, I`ll bring him in here tomorrow evening for a chat if you like". Old Ted quickly assented, and, dog-walking time now expired, went home
