Went to pieces

It?s not often I got a local call

Most of the time
We?d be up in SE London
Or even further out

It?s just the way things went

However, this particular night
The police rang us to say that
There had been a suicide at a house in Erith

This was a result!

By the rules of our ?verbal agreement?
If one of the crew
(there were normally three of us)
lived local to the ?pick up?
They could meet the others there
Thus saving the trip to Woolwich and back

Back in time for closing time
I thought to myself!

I drove the half a mile or so to the address
I?d been given and met the police
Pathologist at the house

?It?s a pretty messy affair? he said
?but we?ll need all the ?bits? and pieces?
You?d best wait ?til the police
Return with the ladder

Strange I though

Until I opened the door to the lounge

There in front of me
Was the body of a man
Probably around mid forties
Completely butt naked and sitting there
Covered in blood and mess
With one notable and obvious problem...

HIS FACE WAS MISSING!

On the floor in front of him
In a pool of blood and membranes
Lay a shotgun

From his neck upwards
Save a small piece of chin and jawbone

Nothing remained

Now the reason for the ladder became obvious

I don?t think the poor sod
Had thought about this for one moment
When he put the barrel of the shotgun
Into his mouth and pulled the trigger but

At the point where his cranium shattered
And his brain, eyes and bones sprayed out across the room he SHOULD
have realised that

WHITE POLYSTYRENE CEILING TILES
Were not the best place to deposit ones features!

It took all three of us
The best part of two hours

Moving around the room
And scraping bits of bone
Sinew, eyeball and teeth
Out from the high ceiling
And into the customary
Plastic carrier bags
We carried for such occasions

In short, not only did I miss
?the last pint?
But I have been put off of using
Polystyrene Ceiling Tiles Forever

Take my advice ?

Take an overdose

IT?S A LOT LESS MESSY!