Last Thursday at the ‘Working Men’s Club’ we were all gathered around the bar quaffing our ale as usual and listening to the folk singers in the lounge singing the usual mournful songs about disasters down the mines, fishing boats sinking in the stormy North sea, death in the trenches (1914-18), and other such cheery songs.

Sid only comes in on Thursdays, wife permitting, to listen to the boys in the back room singing their doom and gloom songs. We all eagerly waited to hear how he got on with our advice on boiling an egg in the microwave, (so it appeared).

Sure enough at 8:30 he appeared, all smiles and generally being jolly. “Hi fellas, how’s things?” he said, and turning to the barman “A pint of mild and a packet of Pork Scratchings please Barry” he said.

Picking up his pint he sat down at a nearby table, and started to read the evening paper.

“Well?” said someone. He glanced up. “Well what?” “How did you get on with boiling your eggs in the microwave?” I asked.

“No problem, thanks to your advice. Best boiled eggs I have ever tasted” he replied. “Really?” I said. “Yes, really, Jean (his wife) said she will always do it that way in future”, then he turned his attention back to the paper.

“Incredible! I would never have believed it.” said Barry, the landlord, “I thought you were having him on” he said to me. “No, would I ever do a thing like that to my best friend?” I replied.

A strange look came into his eyes, “Hmmm . . . Keep on eye on the bar for me for will you?” he said as he turned and walked into the pub kitchen. “I’ll be back shortly”.

About five minutes later we heard a muffled “FLUMP!” from the kitchen and Barry came running back into the bar, “You B*****ds” he shouted “You set me up didn’t you! You knew it wouldn’t work, and the lot of you want … well, you know!”

Turning to Sid he asked “How the hell did you manage to boil the eggs without them exploding?” “Simple” said Sid, “I always boil mine in a saucepan, I’m not as daft as you make me out to be”.

We all stood around laughing, but nobody offered to go and clean out the microwave. “You do realise Barry that this was a conspiracy to pay you back for last Christmas when you served up the Christmas Lunch and told us it was turkey, and afterwards announced that is was ‘road kill’ you found at the side of the lane, made my wife and several people feel really ill, and you thought it was really funny”, announced Sid.

“But I did tell you the day after that it was really turkey didn’t I?” he replied.

“And now we’re telling you that any idiot knows you can’t boil an egg in the microwave” said Sid “You always make out that I’m the village idiot, now you’ve just inherited the title!”

Pub patrons – 1, Pub landlord – 0
Game over.