Short Story: Flatmate (Pt. XII)

He wasn’t all that smart. But he knew enough to make sure he’d take care of his responsibilities. He got out from bed and announced to his girlfriend – his, er, front-bum (little pet-name for the mrs, she hadn’t ever complained) – “alright, I’m off to lock up the pub”. And that – so it seemed was that. Such dedication. But then, next morning, you found …