As my friend-who-is-a-teacher poured the fifth cup of tea and then took her place on the sofa, my bald weightlifting friend's wife pulled another card from the bag, inflatable hammer at the ready in order to hit people over the head if they faltered. She'd been hitting her husband a little harder than everyone else.
"Black," she offered.
"White," offered Mane Jr.
"Whiteboard," said my bald weightlifting friend.
"Class," said Mane Jr's girlfriend.
"Teacher," I offered.
Everyone dissolved into laughter at the existence of the word "porn". We are, after all, about five mentally.
Once everyone had coughed themselves back into something approaching a respectable position, Mane Jr's girlfriend - who had met us all a few hours earlier and was coping pretty well with the whole thing - was given a topic. My bald weightlifting friend's wife fished around for another subject and pulled out...
It took a while to get my friend-who-is-a-teacher back into her sitting position. I suppose it's the small pleasures in life.
"Whose go is it now?" she choked.
"I think it must be yours," I offered.
"Okay, please give me a topic that doesn't have any sexual connotations or we'll never get this finished!"
And she poured herself another Baileys while another slip of paper was grabbed from the bag.
One hour later and we were still laughing.