Christmas Day At The Bunkhouse (Fun Poem 47)

It was Christmas day at the bunkhouse everyone had sat down for a meal when through the door walked a goat. He stood and looked around, then continued to eat an artichoke. When he finished he sat and asked for a drink, someone got up and gave him a bowel of water. The goat looked at the offering with disgust. Ain’t you got anything stronger that that? Of course, we have, came the reply. Well pour me out some the goats said, and put some mud in my eye. Someone had some scotch whiskey and took the bottle out, then gave the goat a dram. The goat sniffed it, and then downed it all in one swallow. He then asked for more saying his legs were still hollow. Another dram was poured and everyone was amazed to see, an upside down goat drinking a bottle of scotch whiskey. The goat drank all day and it drank all night. The lights went out and the old goat went to sleep. He dreamed of himself floating out the door and all the way to heaven, but when he got there, St Peter wouldn’t let him in. He said God will not tolerate any drunken old goats here, so you had better go back and sleep it off, Billy. Then put up a sign on the door. No drunken old goats allowed, signed by you know who. You could always try beneath the basement floor he’ll greet you with a smile and a shovel, even make you hot and warm. The moral of this story whether you’re a goat or a man. Don’t drink too much; you could end up jumping from the frying pan and straight into the fire, the one that they keep burning permanently beneath the basement floor.