All the great lovers of history—Paris, Romeo, Don Juan and Casanova—stood around the barby drinking beer.
The ladies hung back, as these titans of the bedroom were far uglier than reputation gave them credit.
They were also crass, uncouth, immensely drunk and reeked of sweat. Romeo’s blood-streaked eyes were the result of him showing the other boys how many bucket bongs he could pull in a row.
Then Helen of Troy, the bucktoothed dragon who had moved half the world according to popular history, walked out. Cleopatra, Juliet and the Maid Marion soon followed.
The boys didn’t even notice because the footy had started. Even when they did notice, about an hour later, it was only a bonus because they got more leftovers from the barbecue.
“Those chicks aren’t all they’re cracked up to be,” Don Juan said at half time.
“Too right,” Casanova said. “Did you smell Maid Marion? I’ve never smelt anything like it. I almost chundered into the esky.”
“What about Cleopatra’s voice?” Paris said. “My ears are still sore from her shrieking.”
“And Helen of Troy’s teeth,” Romeo said. “I’ve seen camels with better dental work.”