The Bouncy Castle
A father has completely forgotten to book a bouncy castle for his young son’s birthday. It is the night before the party, and there is only one party shop still open.
While visiting this shop, the man narrowly avoids buying a game of ‘Pin The Crime on the Donkey’.
You commit a serious felony, put on a blindfold, and spin around three times. You then contrive to get the courts to find a donkey culpable for the deed. Whoever is closest to perverting the course of justice wins.
The man is persuaded by the salesman to go one further than a bouncy castle, and get an entire bouncy feudal system.
Flash forward one month.
The party was a huge success, but when the man went back to the shop to return the bouncy feudal system he found that it was no longer there.
He tried leaving it out on the kerb, but apparently the council doesn’t recycle archaic systems of government. (Modern forms of economic servitude do, however, go in the purple bin, collected on Thursdays).
His wife is irate; bouncy vassals have occupied the bathroom, and it’s adding quite a lot to the weekly shop trying to feed 14, 000 bouncy serfs.
The bouncy King has insisted on sleeping in the master bedroom, and he’s declared holy war on the neighbours after finding them guilty of heathenry.
Husband: “Look, I disapprove of smoking as much as the next man, but I think waging a crusade against someone for carrying a lighter is a bit much”.
Bouncy King: “He’s a pyromancer.”
Fortunately for the Joneses, the inflatable infantry can’t get over the rose bushes marking the property line.