It was Ernest’s 60th birthday, and his wife had organised a lunch. Arthur bought along a gift. It was a little inlaid wooden box with a hinged lid. Inside was a collection of little miniature bottles of different drinks. It could come in handy. Who knows? One day a guest might ask for a “Moscow Mule” and one could say, “Yes, I’m sure we’ve got some vodka in the house somewhere”.
Anyway, it was a nice thought.
When it came time to go home, Hazel made an ostentatious farewell, only to return a few moments later. She had mislaid her car keys. Has anyone seen them?
Arthur was a bit of a magician, in his own way. He said he reckoned he could find them. He waved his hand knowingly over the inlaid wooden box with the hinged lid.
Voila! He opened it. All the miniature drink bottles had gone. They had been stolen. But Hazel’s car keys were in there.
Everyone was very polite. No one said a word. But all wanted to shout: Oh Hazel! Hazel! Empty your handbag!