The Stab

"Jesus. What did you do?"

The man sitting across from me in the pub is Mark, a long time friend of mine. Currently he is leaning in and listening attentively to my story.

"Well I did what any real man would do in my position."

He is nodding as though he has already guessed what any real man would do in this situation.

"I said 'You fucking stabbed me'."

"And what did he say?"

"He said 'you're right. I just fucking stabbed you'."

"Bloody hell." Mark gasped.

"So I took the knife from his hand, and I stabbed him back, and he said, you'll love this. Guess what he says?"

Mark sits back in his chair, a little smile creeping across his face.

"He never did."

"He did, he said 'you've fucking stabbed me, now'."

Mark let out a loud 'HA!', the kind of laugh that would go well with a slap of his thigh, but he didn't do that.

"Mark." I say dryly.

Mark leans back in to the table. This is where I unveil the truth behind the ridiculous story I have just told him.

"Mark, you're pissed. Go home."

So we do.