Blood and guts

It being the end of the day, I was reading some of the blogs I peruse and decided to have a flick through the Best of Scary Duck (Grauniad blog award winner) - and came across this story.

It's reminded me of a similar story once told by my a-level biology teacher.

Now, Cambridge is a lovely flat place and as such the cycling capital of the world. Our biology teacher cycled in every day; as did many teachers. He'd also nip out on his bike on errands.

That's set-up fact number one.

Biology is sometimes a book-taught subject but is best when it's a practical one. No, no, not like that. Honestly - minds in the gutter. I'm talking dissection, as demonstrated by That'll Teach 'Em (starring Jeannie, my mate Pete's ex).

That's set-up fact number two.

Now, let's combine them.

Disection of bits of cow works best when they're reasonably fresh, so the smell doesn't affect the delicate constitutions of the pupils. A deal had been struck with a local butcher; in return for getting rid of the bits he didn't want, we got fresh bits and pieces to chop up. The only problem was picking them up. The biology teacher offered his services one lunch time and set off to get some nice fresh guts for the afternoon's lesson.

The offal safely stowed in a plastic bag, which in turn was safely stowed on the panier rack on the back of his bike, off he set. What he didn't notice, however, was the bag slipping from the rack behind him and dangling ever closer to the back wheel of his bike.

One thing - as they inevitably do in a good anecdote - led to another and the bag got caught in the spokes. Not only did the bag rip open, but off came the teacher into the road, his bike landing on top of him. Injuries were negligible - a couple of bruises - but the offal was ruined. It had gone everywhere..

And that's where passers by found him - lying in the road, seemingly mortally wounded, covered in blood and entrails. There were screams. Oh god, were there screams. I think the therapists of Cambridge still get work from it.