The next day, the kids came back and, one by one, began to tell their stories.
There were all the regular types of stuff, spilt milk and pennies saved. But then the teacher realised, much to her dismay, that only Janie was left.
"Janie, do you have a story to share?" asked the teacher.
“Yes ma'am. My daddy told me a story about my Mummy. She was an RAF pilot in Desert Storm and her plane got hit. She had to bail out over enemy territory, and all she had was a flask of whiskey, a pistol, and a survival knife. She drank the whiskey on the way down so the bottle wouldn't break, and then she parachuted right into the middle of 20 Iraqi troops. She shot 15 of them with the pistol, until she ran out of bullets, killed four more with the knife, till the blade broke, and then she killed the last Iraqi with her bare hands".
''Good Heavens”, said the horrified teacher. “What did your Daddy tell you was the moral to this horrible story?"
"Don't fuck with Mummy when she's been drinking."
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