No shirt, no shoes, no cake

Last week it was my friend George's birthday. All day he sat in his office, waiting for anyone to say anything, but there was nothing, no emails, no texts, no cake. So he goes home a little disappointed, but hey, he thinks, he's getting older, there's no reason people would care really... Anyway, he gets back to his house about seven, and he's like, well at least my wife will have laid something on for me - maybe she's made me a cake? Or maybe she'll open the door in just her knickers and whisk me off to bed. Sadly, he opened the door to find out that she was just watching The Weakest Link on TV.

"Darling, I'm home," he said to her, "I thought perhaps we could do something special for dinner tonight...?"
"Why," she replied, not getting the hint, "Is it some sort of special occasion?"

So by now he was getting pretty angry, since even his wife had forgotten his birthday. So he plonks himself on the sofa and sits in silence with her, watching nasty Anne Robinson on The Weakest Link.

"Oh, darling," his wife says after a while, "There was one thing..."
"Yes...?" George says, expectantly.
"Well, you know that old toaster we've got? The one in the loft? Can you get it down for me - my mother's asked us if she can use it."
"OK," he replies, miserably.

So off he trudges, up to the loft hatch, opens it up, pulls down the little ladder, climbs into the loft, and turns on the light.

"SURPRISE!" yell the hidden crowd. There were all his friends in the loft - Annie Jones, Annie Rogers, Annie Jenkins, Annie Leighton, Annie Stratford, Annie Ellis, Annie Olson, Annie Yakamoto, Annie Thompson, and Annie Penrose.

"ARGH!" screams George, and promptly collapses, passed out cold.

"Oh god, is he OK?" asked Annie Jenkins.

"Nobody panic, I'm a doctor," says Annie Leighton, and she leans over George, checks his breathing, his pulse and so on.

"It's OK everyone," she announces finally, "It's just a minor case of Annie filled attic shock."