Our gross jar has done extremely well since we last paid it a visit. The high average temperature over the last few months has resulted in our selection of stinking meat festering and decomposing into a nice homogeneous slime.
We knew we didn't want any more dead animals or lumps of flesh, but instead needed something that could soak up some of the liquid, and was still absolutely gross. It didn't take us long to come up with a solution: white man's dreadlocks.
Obviously we'd never associate with a white guy with dreadlocks, so we knew it would be very hard to get hold of some without cutting them off a dead tramp. Luckily our events guy Jack rather bravely admitted to us that he was once one of those white guys with dreadlocks and still had the disgusting things in a bag under his bed. We got him to bring them into work this morning and then headed across to the roof of our pub, the Old Blue Last (where the jar lives), maintaining a safe distance from the dreads at all times. The jar must've spotted the dreads as we approached because we found the poor thing cowering in fear in the corner of the roof. Unmoved, we mercilessly grabbed hold of it and yanked its lid off. As we did this, the jar emitted a stench so foul that our noses died for a few seconds.
We somehow managed to stuff the dreadlocks in without puking and then grabbed a stick and had a good poke around to squidge them into the meaty slime. We couldn't bare to have the lid off for too long because of the overpowering smell, so quickly had to slam it back on, leaving the dreads to die a slow, stinky death.