My uncle died recently in some rather unfortunate circumstances.
He had a few ‘specialist’ sexual tastes that were well known and frequently hinted at darkly during family gatherings - something that was a perpetual embarrassment to his poor wife.
One night, while his wife was at bingo, he was experimenting with a large plastic Superman figurine, inserting into the places that only customs officials would usually dare to explore. Sadly it went in too far and despite his best efforts with a pliers, it became lodged in his colon.
Panicking, he drove himself to hospital where he endured several hours of exploratory surgery. Despite all the efforts of the surgeons, there were complications and he died a few days later.
We did our best to comfort his wife and didn’t let on that we knew. Unfortunately, one of our friends had a typically British sense of humour and chose the perfect song to play at his funeral.
M People’s “You’ve got to search for the hero inside yourself”.
Some people think that was bad taste.
