An Englishman, an Irishman and a Scotsman walk into a bar – to change a lightbulb

We’ve all seen some ridiculous expenditures as a result of outsourcing, but I think I’ve just witnessed the one to end them all.

I was on my lunch break, having a drink in the Doctor, Doctor public house, when I heard a loud voice at the door shout out, “Knock, knock!”

The barman clearly knew who it was, for he grinned, walked up to the door, and answered, “Who’s there?”

The disembodied voice answered, “An Englishman, an Irishman and a Scotsman.”

The barman chuckled, and braced himself, as he asked, “An Englishman, an Irishman and a Scotsman who?”

“An Englishman, an Irishman and a Scotsman who are here to change your lightbulb!”

At this, the barman opened the door and in walked a very bizarre trio. The speaker first in a Savile Row suit and a bowler hat, carrying a stepladder, followed by a man in full highland dress carrying a box of lightbulbs, and finally a man dressed all in green with a shamrock hat on, carrying a live chicken.

“It takes three of you to change one lightbulb?” the barman asked.

“Yes,” replied the Englishman, Will Fixham. “Sean and I keep the ladder secure, while Jock here goes up and does the business.”

He pointed to his kilted colleague Mr Strap, who held up his lightbulbs.

I was intrigued by the proceedings, and followed them as they made their way to where the faulty bulb was. As Mr Fixham set the ladder down, Irishman Sean O’Worries asked me to hold the chicken for him while he and his friend held the ladder down.

Once they were both in position, the Scotsman ascended the ladder with kilt flowing. I refrained from looking up, but noticed a couple of ladies picking that moment to pass by and casually glance up just as they neared the ladder. I said nothing.

“That’s why I’m the one who goes up the ladder,” Mr Strap explained once he came down. “Just to test the ladies’ curiosity.”

I nodded in understanding. But there was one thing that puzzled me. Why did they need a live chicken? I asked as I handed it back. Were they going to have it for their lunch?

“No, no,” said Sean O’Worries as he took the bird from me. “This little lady is the one who leads us across the road when it’s busy.”

So now we know why the chicken crossed the road. To lead the Englishman, the Irishman and the Scotsman into the bar, the Doctor, Doctor, just so we could see why it took three of them to change a lightbulb.

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