Local man, Martin Shuttlecock was today left cursing his damnable luck, after winning the National Lottery Jackpot by an absolute country mile - but forgetting to buy the required ticket in order to claim his prize.
A thoroughly disgruntled Shuttlecock revealed that he had successfully predicted all six winning numbers, plus the bonus ball, adding bitterly that it was criminal, because having selected the winning numbers, he forgot to buy the ticket when he went up the shops to buy beer.
Shuttlecock even revealed his motivation behind his winning pick.
"I picked number one because the wife once bought me a Beatles CD called 'One'," he revealed. "Then I picked five, because I have to get up at five in the morning when I'm on the early shift at the car part factory. Then I picked eighteen, because that's the age at which I was legally allowed to drink Belgian beer - although I was already a committed alcoholic long before my eighteenth birthday.
"Next up, I picked twenty one. It was on my twenty first birthday that me Mam - for some weird reason - sent me card with a picture of a key on the front, and a cheque for twenty one pound. I've no idea what that was all about. After that, twenty three was the obvious choice, because it was on the twenty third of August, in 1997 that I lost my virginity to some drunk woman on the bonnet of an Audi 80 up a back alley in Rochdale.
"Thirty three was an obvious selection, because thirty three is two threes, which when added together total the number of goals - six - that Georgie Best scored at Northampton in an FA Cup tie yonks back. They've still got the ball in the museum at Old Trafford.
"I was a bit lucky in getting the bonus ball - number twenty. I picked that one because when I first started smoking at the age of eleven, I used to regularly nick packets of twenty fags from the garage where me mate worked."
Sadly for Shuttlecock, jubilation turned into desolation, when after picking all the winning numbers, he forgot to buy the lottery ticket.
He explained that when he wobbled up the shops to buy beer, he became distracted by some old bloke at the checkout on a mobility scooter with the covers on, pissballing about, handing a loaf of bread, a packet of fish fingers, and various assorted tat onto the belt and then insisting on paying by cheque.
"I got bored and frustrated," Shuttlecock explained. "So I went to the fag counter to pay for me beer and the double chocolate-chip cookies I'd got for the wife as a special Saturday treat for the Britain's Got Talent final. That one with the dancing dog.
"Anyway - when the checkout lady asked me if I needed a bag today - I got confused, because I had me rucksack, and couldn't quite work out why she was asking me if I needed a bag today. I mean, why would I need a bag for yesterday? And if I need one tomorrow, I can ask for it tomorrow. It was confusing. So I just paid for the beer and the double chocolate-chip cookies and went home. I forgot all about the lottery ticket. Plus as I emerged from the shop doors there was a dog barking at me, and I nearly got run over by the bloke on the mobility scooter. That's my excuse anyway, and I'm sticking to it."
Long suffering wife, Anne, stated that she wasn't in the least surprised by her idiotic husband's stunning ineptitude.
"It's all well and good, you lot having a good chuckle over this, but I'm stuck with the silly bastard for life."
More as we get it.