So a British explorer has been caught by a tribe of cannibals in deepest, darkest Africa. He pleads for his life: “You can’t eat me, I am an emmissary of Queen Victoria”. The tribal chief is a fair man, so he tells the intrepid explorer that if he can survive a test he will be spared and not put in the cooking pot.
The chief explains that there are three tents, each with a different task inside. The first tent contants a pitcher of the tribe’s strongest alcoholic drink, the second tent holds a tiger with a toothache and the third tent holds the chief’s pretty daughter.
“OK,” says the explorer, “First tent – drink the booze. Second tent – cure the tiger with a tootache. Third tent – pleasure the chief’s daughter.” The chief nods, knowing that the Englishman will probably just get eaten by the tiger.
So the explorer enters the first tent and drinks the booze. It is potent stuff and he staggers out of the tent absolutely rat-faced. He is staggering all over the place and can barely walk in a straight line. The tribe lead him into the second tent and in he goes. They hear the man screaming, the tiger howling and what appears to be a vicious fight between man and beast. This lasts for about 20 minutes until the explorer staggers out of the tent, scratched to ribbons and exhausted.
“OK,” he says, the effects of the alcohol still obvious, “Wheresh the girl with the toothache?”
🙂