A terrible fire claimed the life of Paddy the Irishman, who was well-known in his community for his lively demeanour and distinctive presence. Only charred remains were left behind by the fierce fire. The body was so severely charred that it was impossible to identify by sight alone when the authorities found it.
With no choice, the local mortuary contacted his closest friends and family to help verify the deceased’s identification. For the painful assignment, they reached out to Paddy’s two lifelong friends, Seamus and Sean.
The first person to reach the mortuary was Seamus. The ominous burden that awaited him hung heavily in the air. The undertaker peeled up the sheet that covered the body after doing what little he could to prepare the remains. Seamus grimaced at what he saw.
The body was so charred and tarnished by the fire that it was almost unrecognisable. He finally responded, “Yeah, he’s been burned pretty badly.” Turn him over. The undertaker turned the body cautiously, perplexed but obedient. After a few more seconds of looking, Seamus shook his head. “It’s not Paddy, sorry.”
The undertaker didn’t question him, confused. Rather, he summoned Sean in the hopes that he could provide additional clarification. Sean walked gravely into the room and walked over to the table.
Like Seamus, he looked down and said, “Yeah, he’s burned really bad.” Turn him over. The undertaker rolled the body onto its stomach and complied once more. After giving it a thorough examination, Sean confidently said, “No, it ain’t Paddy.”
The undertaker, now completely perplexed, at last posed the query that had been brewing within of him: “How can you tell?” Almost shocked that it wasn’t immediately apparent, Sean looked up and clarified, “Well, Paddy had two arseholes.” Startled, the undertaker blinked.
“What? Confident that he had misheard, he repeated, “He had two arseholes?” Sean gave a quick nod. Yes, everyone was aware that he had two jerks. People would comment, “Here comes Paddy with them two arseholes,” whenever we went into town.
Perhaps this served as a reminder to everyone that even in death, Paddy would always be remembered for the joy he left behind and the company he kept, turning the dreary work of identification from the tragic to the weird.