Chas:
A coach load of trampers are on a tour to inspect, moan & whinge about MSA shower facilities when they pull into their 16th MSA of the day.Roadranger, a particularly smelly member of the group is fast asleep, snoring away on the back seat, not wanting to wake him, the other trampers carefully cover his exposed nakedness with his well thumbed copy of Readers Wives & continue to disembark the coach.
When they finally get their huge pot belly’s off the bus, they spot a lone tipper driver climbing back into his cab & decide it would be fun to give him some gyp.
A few hours later, roadranger awakens from his slumber to find the coach empty, realising it’s getting late & they still have 32 MSA’s yet to slag off, he runs down the coach & turning sideways, finally manages to squeeze out of the door.
All around him lay the bodies of his fellow trampers, legs & arms ripped off, throats dangling from gaping neck wounds, innards spreadeagled across their bloated torso’s like a butchers sausages that fell off the hook.
Standing there in shock, he hears the faint gurgling whispers of a dying Sarge, he kneels alongside what’s left of his comrade & stutters “wha, what happened Sarge”?
With the blood dribbling down his chin, Sarge with his last breath replies “there were two of 'em”.
Nice to get a name check 
