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On their regular girls' night out, Beryl and Gladys are making their way home, pretty much the worse for wear, when they both get caught short with no public toilet in sight.

"I need to pee," says Gladys, "but there isn't anywhere I can go."

"So do I," Beryl says, "Why don't we pop into the cemetery? There's not likely to be anyone around, and I'm sure we can find a dark corner well away from the road."

So they climb over the cemetery gates and find a secluded corner where they squat down to relieve themselves.

"Oh dear," says Beryl, "I don't have anything to dry myself with."

"Me neither," answers Gladys, "I'm going to have to use my knickers and throw them away afterwards."

"Not me," says Beryl, "These are my favourite 'Janet Regers'. I'm not throwing these away." Then she spots a new grave beside her; it's covered with various flowers and wreaths, some of them with decorative ribbons and banners attached. "That'll do," she says as she grabs a wreath in order to make use of the ribbon."

The next day, Beryl's husband gets a phone call from Gladys' husband.

"Hey Bert," says Bill, "I think we ought to start worrying about those nights out that our wives have without us. Last night when Gladys got in, I noticed she wasn't wearing any knickers.

"I know what you mean," answers Bert, "when Beryl took her pants off, a card fell out of 'em. I picked it up this morning and read it, and it said 'Thanks for everything, from all the boys down at the fire station'!"

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