In a disastrous fire, Paddy the Irishman, who was well-known in his community for his lively personality and unforgettable appearance, met a tragic and premature end. There was only charred remains left after the fierce fire.
The body was so severely charred when it was found by the authorities that it was impossible to identify it by sight alone. The local mortuary had few choices except to ask his closest friends and family to help verify the deceased’s identification. They reached out to Paddy’s two lifelong friends, Seamus and Sean, for the painful assignment.
Arriving at the mortuary first was Seamus. The gloomy burden that hung over him weighed heavily on the air. After preparing the remains as best he could, the undertaker drew back the sheet that covered the body. At the sight, Seamus flinched.
The body was so burned and charred that it was almost unrecognisable. “Yeah,” he answered after a time, “he’s burned pretty bad.” Flip him over. Incredulous but obedient, the undertaker turned the body slowly. Seamus shook his head after a few more seconds of looking. “No, it’s not Paddy.”
The undertaker was perplexed and didn’t ask any questions. Instead, he summoned Sean in the hopes that he could provide further information. Somberly, Sean walked inside the room and walked over to the table.
“Yeah, he’s burnt real bad,” he said, looking down like Seamus. Flip him over. The undertaker obeyed once more, turning the body onto its stomach. After carefully examining it, Sean confidently said, “No, it ain’t Paddy.”
Now utterly perplexed, the undertaker at last posed the query that had been brewing within of him: “How can you tell?” Sean said, “Well, Paddy had two arseholes,” looking up, apparently shocked that it wasn’t immediately apparent.
Incredulous, the undertaker blinked. What? He repeated, sure he had misheard, “He had two arseholes?” Without hesitation, Sean nodded. Indeed, it was well known that he had two jerks. “Here comes Paddy with them two arseholes,” people would say whenever we walked into town.
With that, the sombre work of identification changed from the tragic to the strange, a brief moment of unexpected humour in the middle of grief—perhaps serving as a reminder to everyone that Paddy would always be remembered for the laughter he left behind and the company he kept even after he passed away.
