Brenda O'Malley is home making dinner, when Tim Finnegan arrives at her door. "Brenda, may I come in?" he asks. "I've somethin' to tell ya.""Of course you can come in, you're always welcome, Tim. But where's my husband?"
"That's what I'm here to be tellin' ya, Brenda. There was an accident down at the brewery..."
"Oh, God no!" cries Brenda. "Please don't tell me..."
"I must, Brenda. Your husband Mick is dead and gone. I'm sorry."
Brenda reached a hand out to her side, found the arm of the rocking chair by the fireplace, pulled the chair to her and collapsed into it. She wept for many minutes. Finally she looked up at Tim. "How did it happen, Tim?"
"It was terrible, Brenda. He fell into a vat of stout and drowned."
"Oh my dear Jesus! But you must tell me true, Tim. Did he at least go quickly?"
"Well, no Brenda ... no."
"No?"
"Fact is, he got out three times to pee."
