Two friends, boyhood cohorts who’d spent many happy hours as children pulling pranks around their neighbourhood, reunite after one of them returns from a job overseas.
They talk of their experiences whilst apart over dinner, and reminisce about the good old days, recalling the many stunts which gave them so much pleasure in their youth. Finally, having sunk four bottles of wine and a few Cognacs, they agree that the occasion calls for further forays into Bacchanalia, and repair to the closest bar.
“Hey Joe,” says one to the other while they wait for their drink order, “Watch this…” and urging his friend to pay attention he says to the bartender “Tickle your arse with a feather.” The young woman, outraged, says “I beg your pardon!”
“Particularly nasty weather,” his friend quickly returns to her.
“Oh, uh yes, it is,” the bartender replies, clearly not certain whether she’d heard him right the first time.
The two friends splutter laughing as they move away from the bar, and Joe determines to try the stunt at their next port of call, to which they stumble following several more little drinks.
Joe sidles up to the bar and tries to focus on the lovely young face of the bartender, being a great deal more affected by his liberal libations than he might have anticipated, and has to steady himself before he can open his mouth to utter “Tickle your arse with a feather.”
Despite the gross slurring of his words the bartender appears to have immediately understood him and after a long shift serving increasingly drunken patrons is not in the mood for jokes. “I beg your pardon!” she screams at him.
Flustered by what he considers an over the top reaction Joe forgets his line, though recalling the general thrust, and blurts “Fuck of a day.”