Paddy’s wife had just watched a fancy cooking show on TV and was dying to try out a new recipe. She sent Paddy down to the local market to buy a bag of fresh escargot, leaving him with a strict warning: Do not stop at the pub on your way home.
Well, Paddy being Paddy, he decided to pop in for just a quick pint anyway. One pint inevitably turned into ten, and several hours flew by in a blur of laughter and stout.
Staggering out of the pub dead drunk, Paddy panicked, knowing he was going to get a legendary earful from his furious wife. As he stumbled up his front walkway, the porch light suddenly snapped on, and he heard the front door begin to click open.
Thinking at lightning speed, Paddy ripped open his paper bag, dumped all the live snails in a neat line on the concrete, and fell to his knees.
His wife stepped onto the porch with her arms crossed, only to find her heavily intoxicated husband clapping his hands and cheering at the ground:
“Come on now, wee lads! Steady as she goes! We’re almost at the finish line!”
