Dude, Where's my 'phone?

We were staying with some friends one summer when they saw their friend and neighbour get out of a car, his face bruised and stitches above his eye.

The previous evening, he (let's call him 'Vic' - short for victim!) and his friend who had been staying with him, got drunk and started arguing; the friend (no longer a friend) attacked Vic and walked out.

Vic walked several miles to hospital and, after receiving treatment in the early hours, hitch-hiked home.

After he told us his story, his cell-phone rang. Vic thought it was his girl-friend calling but it was the violent ex-friend. Angry, upset and emotional, Vic hurled the cell-phone across the garden. We politely suggested that he might want to retrieve it in case his girl-friend tried to contact him.

It was no-where to be found, not on the grass or in the shrub borders. Thinking that it couldn't possibly have reached the road beyond, we looked, nevertheless, but couldn't see it anywhere. Our friends called the number and we listened carefully - yes! Following the sound, we stood in the middle of the road above a drain and could see it, maybe a foot (30 cms) below the surface, through a grid. Incredible! Even Vic was laughing at how ludicrous this situation had become.

The cell-phone, thanks to a young girl's long and skinny arm, was retrieved! Vic is now fine and the ex-friend has never returned.