I once had to help clear out a garage for a g/f after her father suffered a major stroke and was left half paralysed and requiring round the clock care.
It was quite am emotional time for everyone when we went through broken tools etc that were just taking up space and were never going to be used again, however I opened a dusty drawer and found a carrier bag full of continental grot dating back to the 1970s, judging by the (ahem) hairstyles on display.
I couldn’t allow the great man’s family to stumble upon his chud stash, so I sneaked it out in a cardboard box marked “carpentry offcuts” and placed it upon a bonfire in the garden. The pron was granted a proper Viking funeral, although I did have to chase the missus and kids away when the cardboard box burned to reveal a glossy A5 cover of two hirsute ladies indulging in some impromptu spelunking. Thankfully, the task was completed with everyone’s dignity intact.
Later that evening, I shared a few drams of whiskey with the distinguished gentleman himself. It was absolutely the very least I could do.