Aunty Anita.

A teacher gave her class of 11 year olds an assignment:

To get their parent to tell them a story with a moral at the end of it. The next day the kids came back and one by one began to tell their stories.

Thomas said, 'My father's a farmer and we have a lot of egg laying hens. One time we were taking our eggs to market in a basket on the front seat of the car when we hit a big bump in the road and all the eggs got broken.'

'What's the moral of that story, Thomas?' asked the teacher.

'Don't put all your eggs in one basket!'

'Very good,' said the teacher.

Next, little Charlie raised her hand and said, 'Our family are farmers too, but we raise chickens for the meat market. One day we had a dozen eggs, but when they hatched we only got ten live chicks, and the moral to this story is, 'Don't count your chickens before they're hatched.'

'That was a fine story, Charlie.'

'Little Samuel, do you have a story to share?'

'Yes. My daddy told me this story about my Aunty Anita who was a RAF flight engineer on a plane in the Gulf War and her plane got hit. She had to bail out over enemy territory and all she had was a bottle of vodka, a machine gun and a machete. 'She drank the vodka on the way down so it wouldn't break and then she landed right in the middle of 100 Iraqi soldiers. 'She killed seventy of them with the machine gun until she ran out of ammunition. 'Then she killed twenty more with the machete until the blade broke. 'And then she killed the last ten with her bare hands.'

'Good heavens, Samuel. That's some story,' said the horrified teacher. 'What kind of moral did your daddy tell you from that horrible story?'

'Stay the f**k away from Aunty Anita when she's been drinking vodka!'

Anon.