By that I don’t mean router, like on your computer (ooh that rhymes!), I mean Router (ra-ow-ter) like what Jesus used back in his carpentry days.
So I was at home last night drinking Pimms and shooting at foxes from my second largest veranda when Ben rings me up rather unexpectedly. This is Ben from the olden days we’re talking about. ‘Trucker’ Ben, or ‘Hillbilly’ Ben as some people might know him. His mother calls him Benjamin. I just call him Ben as I don’t have many others to confuse him with, especially not in the same social circle.
So anyway, Hallvard my Scandinavian Butlers assistant passes me the phone and the conversation goes as follows:
Ben: Alright Dunk!
Me: Alright mate, what’s up?
B: Well I just thought I’d call you and tell you something
M: Right…sounds interesting...
B: Well you know the other day when we were having a laugh about your friend who thought she saw that guys leg come off when he got run over
M: Ha ha, yes, I do recall said conversation. Continue….
B: Well I just cut the end of my finger off!
At this point I put the rifle down and got Hallvard to top up my Pimms. I certainly wasn’t expecting to hear this!
M: What the fuck?! How?
B: Well I was doing a job and was using the router and got the end of my finger with it.
M: Right...
B: Yeah, it smashed the bone on the end and split the next bone in two.
M: (slurp)
B: They said they might be able to fix it by taking more skin off another finger, but said it might not work so gave me the option of having it lopped off.
M: Sooo...
B: So yeah, I just had it cut off. I was under a local anaesthetic too.
M: So you watched it?
B: No, I didn’t want to, but I felt it when the end of my finger popped off!
For someone who had just had an entire fingertip removed, Ben seemed rather upbeat.
I bode Ben farewell and sat back in my bespoke relaxment chair, lined with Siberian Tiger fur. I wondered about the photographs on Bens wedding day (should he choose to go down such a path), the one with the Bride and Grooms hands in the picture. It’s going to look funny.
I saw a brown and white object move out of the corner of my eye, down by the Coi Pond. Hallvard passed me my rifle and one single round. I shot the dirty vermin between the eyes without a seconds thought. That pesky fucker had been through my bins.

