Jack the liar - Part 3 - a tube in the bum

Jack had now been working with us for around 6 months and we'd gotten used to his lies, both small and big.

My favourite move of his was when he would put a piece of paper in front of him on his desk, thread his headphone cable up his shirt sleeve and put his hands on his ears like he was in deep concentration. He was listening to UK grime and drill rap while trying to have a nap - this was not a large office where this is something you could get away with, this was a single bank of desks with 8-10 people all within 5 metres of each other.

My favourite big lie he told was at an industry event when he told a client that he wrote lyrics for Dizzee Rascal, this man could barely write his home address let alone some fire bars.

Actually, this was my second favourite big lie. My favourite big lie was the tube in the bum.

I'm at work with one other guy and a candidate turns up for an interview with Jack, but Jack hasn't arrived yet. We're calling and texting him to hurry up but there's no response, so we do the interview for him.

Pissed that we had to cover for him, we're calling and texting him for the next hour then starting to think we're going to have to call the police or next of kin to see if he's ok.

We'd text him to that effect and that's when I got the first reply:

"I'm at home with a tube in my bum, I was stabbed last night"

Now before I tell you my reply, please remember that this was after months of lies. The boy not only cried wolf a thousand times before, he wrote a book about it, wrote a song about it (maybe for Dizzee Rascal), he wrote the Dummies Guide to Crying Wolf. So by this point, I and everyone else was sceptical.

I wrote back "Did they come to your house to put the tube in your bum or did you go to the hospital first and then travel home with the tube in your bum?"

No response. We wondered if this was the time he was telling the truth - possible the first time - or if not, how he was going to see this story through on Monday. The fact that this happened on a Friday is a sort of important fact to remember.

The next day I was on Facebook (this was around 2010/11 so don't make fun of me) and the first thing in my feed was Jack being tagged in photos, a night out at Hooters for a birthday.

This could have been old photos, nights before or maybe even the fateful night of the stabbing.

Except for one thing.

Hooters shows various sporting events on the TVs at their establishments (so I'm told. Ok I've been, sue me) and in the corner of one of the photos was the Friday night NRL game; Raiders v Dogs if my memory hasn't let me down.

To go from at home with tube in bum to drinking and eating at Hooters on the same day is quite the show of recovery and determination. Man really liked Hooters to get there, I hope the birthday girl appreciated the miracle that had transpired.

The photos or the tags didn't last long, they were gone a few hours later which was obviously even more suspicious.

So fast forward to Monday and I'm like a kid on the last day of school that's just had 2 litres of red cordial, absolutely frothing for Jack to arrive and hear this story.

To my surprise he does turn up, sort of limping and with a grimaced look on his face. Must have been stabbed in the leg I thought.

He tells us the story, an argument with his girlfriend about another girl and he slipped and the sharp corner of the bench "stabbed" his stomach.

He lifts his shirt to show us the evidence.

Please remember, this is a true story and I've got witnesses to back this next part up.

The evidence was a piece of paper towel, sticky taped to his stomach to imitate the gauze and proper dressing you would get at a hospital.

My colleague said it before I could "That looks like paper towel bruv" and Jack shot him an angry look.

I contributed the only way I know how in such an awkward and tense situation:

"What about the tube in your bum, is it still in?"

I never got to ask him why he needed a tube in his bum for a stomach wound, I'm guessing he was stabbed in the bowel or potentially the cut was so deep it lacerated his anus, but it was shortly after this that Jack left a hole in our lives that even the most absorbent paper towel could fix.