Walking the wife home from her weightwatchers class last night, I held her close as we went through a nasty-looking underpass system in the rough end of town.
As we turned a corner, I locked eyes with a filthy tramp eating someone's discarded takeaway from a bin.
"Look at that poor bloke, I'm glad I'm not him."
Spoiler:
He probably thought.
Of course it'll fit; you just need a bigger hammer.