Where's the Pie?

You are looking at Pie. An M&S Chicken and Leek pie to be exact.

Ok, so last night Paul and Lowther went to The Sage to see 'Zappa Plays Zappa'. They went out for a pre-concert session which involved numerous pints and some pocket whisky.

By the time the concert had begun, they were well seasoned. Half-way through the concert, they had to leave the venue due to extreme drunkedness. By the time I made it to Gateshead to collect them, Paul had rolled down an embankment, muddied his trousers and injured his hand.

The farce continued at home when Paul insisted that he eat pie. Fine I thought, a nice bit of pie might help to soak up the booze. I hadn't anticipated that Paul would take an entire boxed pie to bed and proceed to spill crumbs and discard crusts all over fresh sheets.

new covers + drunk husband + pie crusts + preggers hormonal wife = pie hurled out of bedroom window

Throughout the night, Paul would occasionally wake to pee all over the bathroom floor or frantically search for pie. At one point, he was convinced that his precious pie was in the underwear drawer.

The snores were unreal and at 5am I was thankful that Paul woke to once again hunt for pie. This time, he looked in the fridge and was appalled to see that it wasn't there. Perplexed and with a rumbling tummy, he looked around the house for his favourite chicken filled pastry.

Nothing.

He should look out of the window more often - it's funny what you find in the garden....

**Additional: I've just listened back to a recording I made of his drunken ramblings. When asked why he was looking in my knicker drawer for pie, his answer was "to eat".

Good answer...