One morning Gert walks down to the post office to collect her pension. Standing in the queue she spies her good friend Daisy, whom she hasn't seen for ages. After an initial chat, the pair meet outside for a good chin-wag. 'Well, says Gert,'how have you been?' 'I've been fine,' replies Daisy, 'A bit of trouble with the old hips but musn't grumble.' 'Oh good,' says Gert, 'and what about your George?' 'He's ok, the gout plays him up now and again but he gets by, you know how it is? How have you been Gert?' 'Well,' says Gert, 'not too good really.' 'Oh dear, says Daisy, 'what's happened?' 'Two months ago my Fred was out in the garden picking some Brussel Sprouts when I heard the most terrible moan,' Gert says, 'it was a massive heart attack. He was dead before the ambulance arrived.' 'Dear Lord, Gert!' says Daisy, 'whatever did you do?' 'What could I do?' says Gert, 'I had to open a tin of bloody peas.'