Paddy has had a glass eye for ages. One day, his best friend, who is a neurosurgeon, tells him of a new procedure of transplanting eyes. Paddy is very excited about this; and the wait for a donor begins, but the list is long.
One day Paddy is driving along the winding country road when a red Ferrari zooms past him at breakneck speed. Paddy, a bit unnerved, hits the brakes but recovers quite quickly and continues on his way. Two turns further he comes across the same Ferrari totalled against a tree. He stops and gets out to take a closer look, and realizes the driver is dead.
After recovering from his initial shock, Paddy remembers his friend the surgeon and the procedure. He looks around, but it is Sunday and the road is really deserted, so he quickly takes out his pocket knife, carefully removes the guy’s eye, wraps it in his clean hanky, and for good measure, takes out his glass eye and pops it into the dead man’s eyesocket. Even the shade corresponds – they won’t know. He pockets the live eye and makes off to hospital as fast as he dares to drive, alerting his friend en route.
The neurosurgeon is waiting for him at the door, and he is instantly wheeled in and prepared for theatre. Two hours later he comes too but his eyes have been blindfolded. His friend the doctor informs him that the blindfold will come off the next morning, but that the eye must rest for now.
The next morning comes, and they remove the blindfold. It’s like magic! The eye works! Paddy for the first time in many years enjoys binocular vision. He easily completes the exercises his surgeon friend gives him to test the eye’s functionality, and everything is operational. The doctor tells him that he needs to read something to check if he gets migraines, and hands him that morning’s paper. Paddy browses through it until he finds this headline:
“Police flummoxed. Driver with two glass eyes dies crashing his car.”
Little boy goes to school for his first time. The teacher asks the child in front of him: “What’s your name, little girl?”
“Welcome, Jenny! And you, little boy?” (the kid on Jenny’s right.)
“Welcome, Paul! And what about you?”
The little boy answers, “Wagonwheel.”
The teacher is not amused. “You know, if an adult asks you a decent question, you should give a decent answer! Now, what is your name?”
“Wagonwheel,” repeats Wagonwheel bravely.
The teacher is very angry. He gives Wagonwheel a spanking. “See, children, what you get for disrespect?” And he sends Wagonwheel home.
Wagonwheel’s little brother comes running the moment he comes home.
“How was school? How was school?”
Wagonwheel shakes his head sadly.
“Ooh, you’re gonna be in for it, Chickenshit.”