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There he was. Sprawled out on the tanning bed. Preparing to increase the temperature on the machine. Joe was aghast as he approached his old friend.
‘Sam, Sam. You’re looking good, mate. Just about to top up the tan?’
‘Joe, Joe, came a voice from behind, accompanied by a chorus of hushed disapproval. ‘Joe, take off the Happy Glasses, mate.’
Joe followed the instruction and was horrified to find himself not in the salubrious surroundings of a health and fitness centre, but in a crematorium addressing the coffin occupied by Sam Felcher. Joe dipped his head in respect to his late comrade, executed a neat half turn incorporating a similar gesture to the displeased audience, folded his Happy Glasses simultaneously mouthing the name of the product as way of offering his excuse for the outrageous faux pas and consigned them to the top pocket of his jacket.
Jonny Morgan Humour Sampler 