Okay if you insist...
One evening, Pete was over and we had just started shooting darts. For some reason, we began singing rude songs about each other's mothers to the tune of the Grinch song. For example, I would sing something like:
You're a kind one, Mr B.
You'd even help a BUM
But when I **** your mother it takes ages till I ****
Mr. B!
And then he would retort something along the lines of:
You're an amusing one Mr. Shaw
You're really quite a stitch
But when I **** your mother I wind up with a strange itch
Mr. Shaw!
So this went on for a bit, shooting darts at the walls and mother-taunting to the tune of the Grinch. Suddenly, one of us looked at the clock. We realized that we had been doing this for five solid hours.