I've had a long weekend, and I've had house guests from up the line. One of my guests was in Devon for "fibre-fest", a fair for all forms of textile fibre preparation: Shearing, combing, carding, spinning, knitting, weaving, killing. Killing? No, no killing[1]. At our Sunday evening meal I left the dining table, walked to the kitchen, picked up a cake, and walked back to the table. When I got there the entire gathering was laughing so hard that they were incapable of speech for several minutes. Apparently the conversation involved my sister asking what everybody had done for the weekend. My sister has a medical background, and when she heard "fibre-fest" she thought "dietary-fibre-fest" and asked if it was full of people with constipation.
Shameless self promotion: look at my band
[Note1]
If you don't understand why I added "killing" to the list of activities at fibre-fest, then you didn't watch Spaced. It won't make any more sense to you now, but here's the relevant dialog.
Richard "Nearly paddled across the Erm" B