I was at a friend's house one evening, and he had cooked dinner for a few of us, when the phone in the hall rang.

While he was answering it, his daschund ran through his chilli con carne. He had'nt even started it and we didn't have the heart to tell him.

So we pushed it back together again with a fork, to the shape it was roughly when he left the room. He didn't leave a scrap.