Ned Grinter had an old truck. Some might call the old truck a pick-up and some might call it a ute. It was once white, and a bit battered. It was Ned’s pride and joy, although he didn’t use it much – mainly several times a year to gather firewood for the winter. The rest of the time he used his car. He would polish the truck’s tires, and even polish the black cover that stretched over the back of the truck. Some might call the back of the truck a deck and some might call it a tray.
Ned was out collecting firewood in the forest with his wife, Barbara. He was chucking the firewood haphazardly onto the back of the truck. He was doing mighty fine loading wood when Barbara suggested that if he packed the wood nicely he’d be able to fit more on.
He didn’t have time to pack things nicely. They could come back and get a second load. It was quicker not to be fussy.
Things developed into an argument and then Ned, firewood only half loaded, took off in his truck for back home. And when he got home he stretched the cover over the back of the truck and said, Stuff it; stuff the firewood; his wife could freeze through the winter for all he cared.
So Ned’s old truck stayed unused throughout the cold winter, parked behind the back of the garden shed. Come the end of winter and Ned needed to use his truck to pick up a beer fridge he’d bought online. He unloaded the firewood. But he didn’t have a clue what to do with his wife’s decomposing corpse.