Humor: Postman Pat
It was Postman Pat's last day on the job after 35 years of carrying the mail through all kinds of weather to the same neighborhood.
When he arrived at the first house on his route, he was greeted by the whole family there, who all hugged and congratulated him and sent him on his way with a gift cheque for £500.
At the second house they presented him fine Cuban cigars in an 18-carat gold box.
The folks at the third house handed him a case of 30-year old Scotch whisky.
At the fourth house he was met at the door by a dumb blonde in her lingerie. She took him by the arm and led him up the stairs to the bedroom where she blew his mind with the most passionate love he had ever experienced.
When he had had enough they went downstairs, where the dumb blonde fixed him a giant breakfast: eggs, tomatoes, bacon, sausage, toast, and freshly-squeezed orange juice. When he was truly satisfied she poured him a cup of steaming coffee.
As she was pouring, he noticed a £5 note sticking out from under the cup's bottom edge.
"All this was just too wonderful for words," he said, "but what's the five pounds for?"
"Well," said the dumb blonde, "last night, I told my husband that today would be your last day, and that we should do something special for you. I asked him what to give you".
He said, "Fuck him. Give him five pounds."
She smiled prettily. "The breakfast was my idea."
With apologies to Attu