Lamb, 2am.

—LADS, GETHEFUCKOUT OF THE BAR PLEASE, LADIES AND GENTS, MOVE TO THE FUCKING DOOR.

Stephanie and Brian had just met that evening for the first time, and they both really fancied each other. In fact, they fancied the hole off each other. Stephanie was from Drynam and Brian was from Kinsealy, so they were a match made in Feltrim. Or rather, in Lamb.

—BRING YOUR DRINKS AND FUCK OFF OUT THE DOOR PLEASE, THANK YOU.

Not wanting to part just yet, Brian and Stephanie looked around at each other.

"I know, Steph," said Brian, "let's go down to Margaret in the cloakroom and get our hole."

"But what do you mean Brian? Who's this Margaret woman?"

"It's deadly, actually. You give Margaret a tenner and she lets you in to the cloakroom to roide. Once you're done you just leave, and we never even have to see each other again if it's not that good."

"Oh, Brian, that's a great idea. Have you any money?"

"Actually, no, I'm broke, I gave all my change to the black in the jacks after I bought those two mojitos for us. Have you a tenner?"

"Well, I do, but I was going to use that for the taxi home."

"Ah, sure, you can walk home. Sure let's get our hole."

—FUCK OFF OUT OF THE BAR, LADIES AND GENTS, NOW.

"Well...okay."

So Stephanie and Brian got their hole, and it was grand fun until he came in her eye and she couldn't see. She washed it out, and thankfully she hadn't gone blind, but she was upset that Brian didn't really give a shite, and so she burst into tears and ran off up the general direction of Drynam. Meanwhile Brian got in a fight with some other holegetters and died, God love him.

And so the moral of the story is, never get your hole in Lamb. It'll just end in tears.