Great hunting story
A bunch of guys go on a hunting trip on the way there, as would have it here in Zululand the beers are flowing. However the one gentleman whose name I will keep a secret to protect his last little bit of dignity was complaining profusely about his piles or haemorrhoids and how that the alcohol was going to trouble them.
Anyway after a two-hour trip they arrive at the campsite. Sitting around the fire that night after a short hunt the guys started drinking again and once again the old chap started to moan to the annoyance of all about his piles.
It was then that the dastardly plan to shut the gentleman up forever was hatched!
The guys started plying the old chap with shots and lots of beers till the old boy passed out. They then gutted a small buck or Duiker, which they had, shot and put the guts into the old chaps underpants and put him in his sleeping bag.
Of course the guys carried on around the campfire and later went to bed.
In the morning everybody woke up early for a day of hunting however the old boy was nowhere to be found and after a brief search was located sitting crying and moaning in the long grass a short way from the camp.
When asked what had happened he replied that they had laughed and told him to shut up about his piles and did not realize how serious his affliction was.
He then related how he had woken up early in the morning with a very uncomfortable rear end. On further investigation he told them he discovered that some of his guts had popped out and that it had taken him a whole hour to push them back in.
Of course the guys were rolling around wetting themselves laughing which further upset the old chap thinking they were totally insensitive pricks.
Of course after a lot of explaining and great relief to the old man the truth was told however the old chap’s dignity took a large dent. However I am happy to state he no longer complains about piles! “I wonder why?”