A tramp finds a five pound note in the street. He decides to go to the off-licence and buy a bottle of white wine. After duly knocking back the plonk the tramp falls into a drunken torpor and collapses in a small alleyway.

About ten minutes later a passing homosexual happens upon the sprawled body of the tramp. Not having greased the pole for a while the shirt-lifter whips down the tramps keks and gives him one up the old Gary Glitter. As the rear-gunner is just about to leave he gets a pang of conscience and tucks a five pound note into the tramp’s hand.

Upon waking up the next day the tramp discovers the fiver. Hardly believing his good fortune he rushes back to the off-licence and purchases another bottle of white wine. Yet again he downs the vino and falls into a drunken sleep in his favourite alleyway. A little later the same chutney ferret passes the alleyway and sees the tramp. Unable to contain himself, the uphill gardener divests the tramp of his jockeys and gives him another hoop stretching. Again he leaves five pounds out of guilt for his actions.

Upon waking up the tramp discovers another fiver in his hand and so hastens back to the off-licence. He grabs a bottle of red wine and hands it to the sales assistant for wrapping. The sales assistant, by now familiar with the tramp’s usual habits, asks why he is buying red wine this time to which the tramp responds, “I quite like the white wine but it doesn’t half make my fucking arse sore.”