Extended Puns -- Real Groaners
I love Shaggy Dog Stories.
When I was Cubmaster our Cub Scout Pack had a tradition of having someone
read a story at the beginning of every Pack meeting. The shaggier, the
sillier, the better. A real groaner is best. Following is a collection
I'm working on of Complex Extended Puns and Shaggy Dog Stories. Some of
these are really good for a Pack meeting. Please send me your favorites
and I'll include them here.
One hot and dry day in the
Wild West, this dog walks into a saloon and says, "Gimme a beer". Evidently
this type of thing wasn't too rare 'round those parts because the bartender
said, "I'm sorry, but we don't serve dogs here." The dog then took out
a silver dollar, dropped it on the bar, and said, "Look, I got money,
and I want a beer." This scene had the potential to get ugly. The bartender,
getting a little irate, said one more time, "We do not serve dogs here.
Please leave." The dog growled, so the bartender pulled out a gun and
shot the dog in the foot! The dog yelped, and ran out the door.
The next day, the swinging
bar doors were tossed open and in walks the dog that had been in the saloon
the day before. He was dressed all in black. A black cowboy hat, a black
vest, three black cowboy boots and one black bandage. The dog looks around,
waits for the talking to quiet down, and says, "I'm lookin' fer the man
who shot my paw."
-- Thanks to Steve Poggio
There once was this man
who was looking for a job. He applied for a bus driver's job at the county
board of education. The head of the school board granted him an interview.
During the interview the man was told there was only one bus driver job
left, the one that drove the special education bus. The man said he would
take the job but the school offical asked that he look at the bus first.
They went outside down a row of yellow school buses and at the end was
a small van with Seasame Street characters painted all over it. The man
was a little reluctant at first but the offical told him all the kids
would be at the bus stops and all he had to do was pick them up in the
morning and take them home in the evening. The man need the job badly
so he took it.
The first day on the job
he comes to the bus stop and there is a little girl standing there who
is very fat. She gets on the bus and the driver says, "Hi! What's your
name?" The girl replies, "My name is Patty" and takes a seat. He comes
to the next stop and there is another little girl there who is fatter
than the first. She gets on the bus and the driver asks, "What your name?".
She says "My name is Patty" then takes a seat by the first girl.
At the next stop there is
a little boy standing there. When he gets on the bus he says, "Hi I'm
Ross and I'm special." At the next stop there is another little boy standing
there and when asked his name he says, "Hi I'm Lester Cheatum". Lester
takes the seat behind the driver, pulls off his shoes. He starts picking
the loose skin on his bunyons and throwing it at the driver. This being
the last stop, the driver takes the group of special kits to school.
This same scene happens
every day for a week. On Friday the driver goes into the superintendent's
office and say, "I quit! I can't take it anymore!"
When asked why the driver
says, "Every day it's the same thing! Two obese Patty's, special Ross,
Lester Cheatum picking bunyons on a Seasame Street bus".
-- Thanks to John Sugg
May 5, 1863 -- Here on
the frontier, I sometimes wonder if the ancients were right. With no other
friendly face within 150 miles, it seems as if I _have_ fallen off the
edge of the Earth.
I spend my time now reading
what books I have and cultivating my patch of cucumbers (which I brought
back from the Holy Land, cf. _Prince_of_Thieves_). The "purpose" of this
fort, to hold back the Indians, has fallen away with my civilized veneer.
May 7, 1863 -- This morning
I had an interesting and silent encounter. One of the tribe of Indians
nearby watched me perform my morning tasks and then left without a word.
I am excited by the prospect of contact with the natives of the area.
May 20, 1863 -- I have
finally convinced the Indians to parlay with me. I taught them the word
for "fort", feeling that it would be simple enough for them to learn.
They in turn taught me the Indian word "titonka", apparently a small but
tough, powerfully merchandised horseless carriage of metal construction.
I envy these people their simplicity.
June 7, 1863 -- Today I
visited the Indians' village. It is on one of the many flat-topped plateaus
in the area. As the decline of the buffalo proceeds, so too does this
Indian tribe face decline. I will try to teach them agriculture. They
have also told me their name for themselves. It is "Anasazi"... which
apparently means "people called Anasazi" in their language. I am called
by them "Stinchapecsal" which means "he who should bathe more regularly".
July 8, 1863 -- A rude
awakening. The Indians are fully aware of agriculture and in fact have
nothing to do with the buffalo (what kind of nomadic tribe would build
a village on a _mesa_?); unfortunately, they are suffering a drought.
Knowing a remedy, I have
told them to dig a ditch from the nearby stream up the mountainside to
their mesa-top fields. In the meantime, I am pickling my cucumbers.
July 20, 1863 -- The drought
is desperate, but the ditch is finished and my pickles are ready. I am
lining the ditch with pickles. The Anasazi are doubtful, but I have promised
them results in the morning.
July 21, 1863 -- Success!
The stream has been diverted and now flows up the mountainside to the
Anasazi fields. Amazed by this seeming magic, I told them that it was
simply a well-known fact in my world. After all, everyone knows that "dill
waters run steep".
Thanks to Steven Andrew
A British bush pilot is
flying on a job through the Australian outback when he encounters engine
problems and is forced to make a crash landing. He survives, but is found
unconscious and is taken to a local mission hospital which is run by the
Sisters of Mercy. Upon awakening, he is greeted by the mother superior
who advises him where he is and asks if there is anything he wants. He
replies, "I am a bit thirsty...could I have a cup of tea?" to which the
mother superior says, "I'm terribly sorry, but our supply truck is late
and we are out of regular tea. However, we do have a sort of native drink
that is brewed from koala hides." the pilot thinks awhile and replies,
"Well, I just have to have my cuppa...you can bring me that, thanks."
The nun leaves and returns
in a few minutes with a steaming cup. The pilot takes the cup gratefully,
but upon taking a sip, instantly gags and spits it out. "This tea is filled
with hair!", he exclaims disgustedly.
"Oh, I'm dreadfully sorry!"
The nun replies, "I forgot to tell you: The koala tea of mercy is not
-- Thanks to Bill Snedden
Buford, a fairly handsome
Southern Bullfrog, hops into a bank lobby one day, brief case neatly tucked
under his right foreleg. Buford hops up to the first open teller window
and sits down in front of a teller, Miss Mary Greene. He announces, "I
need a loan."
Miss Greene, not wanting
to look too uncool with this frog talking to her, pauses only briefly
to reflect on this situation, then says, "Well, the Everglades Savings
and Loan doesn't usually give loans to amphibians." Quickly opening the
brief case, Buford produces construction permits and blueprints. Showing
them to Miss Greene, he says, "But I need a loan. You see I have this
construction project in mind. Down in the swamp, we need affordable housing
for all my in-laws and out-laws. I have the permits. Freddy, an architect
newt friend of mine has drawn up the plans. Everything is approved and
in order. So you see, all I need is the financing."
For Miss Greene, this is
getting stranger by the moment. It isn't enough that there is this talking
frog only inches in front of her, but now he is talking about plans, permits
and a newt architect. Just before she loses it completely, Miss Greene
blurts out, "I can't help you. You must see our loan officer, Miss Black.
Wait here for a moment and I'll get her."
Miss Greene is gone for
a while. After several minutes of animated conversation at the other side
of the bank she returns with the loan officer. "Hello, I'm Miss Patricia
Black, the Loan Officer here. How can I help you?" Well, Buford goes through
his speach once again, tells her about the plans and permits, about the
housing and his friend Freddy the newt architect. Thinking she could put
an end to this foolishness quickly, Miss Black asks, "What do you have
to put up for collateral for a loan? You must have something of value
to mortgage against a loan like this."
Buford digs into his brief
case once more. "I have this!" he exclaims as he draws forth a crystal
trinket on a silver chain. "I can't give you a loan based on this THING,"
Miss Black says, pointing at Buford's treasure. Buford begs. He pleads.
Finally, Buford demands to see the bank manager. Miss Greene, the teller,
leaves for a moment to get the bank manager. Another animated conversation
ensues at the other side of the bank. The manager comes over and asks
"What's the problem, Miss Black?" "Well, Mr. Brown..." and the Loan Manager
explains that the frog wants to take out a loan, to construct housing
in the swamp for his in-laws and out-laws and he has plans and permits,
but all he has is this trinket as collateral. The manager bemused by this
whole situation, takes the trinket in hand, examines it carefully, then
hands it back to Buford saying, "It's a knick knack, Patty Black. Give
the frog a loan."
-- Thanks to Kevin Doyle
, and elaborated by Gary Hendra
Let's try that one again...
A frog walks/hops into a
bank, and asks to see someone about applying for a loan.
"Oh, Mr. Paddywack will
be glad to help you," says the teller, looking down at the frog rather
dubiously. "Just have a seat at that desk over there, and he'll be right
So the frog sits down,
and presently, the loan officer comes over. "Good day, sir, how may I
help you?" he says, raising an eyebrow.
"I need a loan," says the
frog, "I want to do some rennovations on my lillypond."
"Well..." says the loan
officer, "we are not in the practice of approving loans for amphibians..."
he said condescendingly, looking over the rims of his hornrimmed glasses.
"But why not?" exclaims
the frog, "I've got an excellent credit record! I've never been late on
my visa payment!"
The loan officer sighs.
"Sir, I'm afraid we would need some type of collateral, and I'm-"
"But I've got it!" exclaims
the frog. "I've got an extensive collection of hummels I can use as collateral-"
"I'm sorry," cuts in the
loan officer, "but I don't think we'll be able to help you," he begins,
but just then his supervisor comes up behind the desk.
"What seems to be the problem?"
he says to the loan officer.
"Uh, um, Sir, this fro-
um, gentleman, wanted to obtain a loan," says the loan officer, "but I've
been trying to tell him that we can't-"
"I've got a hummel as collateral!"
the frog breaks in.
"What in the world is a
hummel???" says the loan officer condescendingly.
The supervisor looks exasperated.
"It's a nick-nack, Paddywack! Give the frog a loan!"
-- Thanks to the Giant Panda,
So the Soviets got sick
of buying wheat from the Americans and began to spend millions on research
into grains. Finally U.S. intelligence found out that the Soviet scientists
had developed a new grain that yielded twice the harvest of conventional
wheat and grew in half the time. Several agents died before it was discovered
that the new grain was called "Krilk". The CIA was panicked! Without the
Soviet dependency on American grains the security of the West could be
Congress quickly convened
and appropriated several hundred million dollars for the CIA to send up
spy satellites over Russia to learn the secrets of Krilk. Finally, after
several years, the satellites began to send back images of the factory
deep in the Soviet Union that was processing the Krilk. The CIA sent in
over a hundred agents. None returned. The process remained a secret. The
satellites were next to useless because they could only see the outside
of the building, not the actual milling of the harvests. Finally the Soviet
Ambassador in Washington sent a message to the President of the U.S. to
let him know that all further attempts to learn the secrets would be futile.
The message read...."You
are wasting your money. Everyone knows that it's no use spying over milled
-- Thanks to Steve Poggio
It came to pass that a very
poor peasant was down to his last meal.
Deciding he could no longer
live in squalor, he decide to sell the only thing he owned... his talking
mule. This was no ordinary Francis type of talking mule, this one could
tell jokes and sing and keep the local townspeople very happy. With much
regret, the peasant sets off to the big city to sell his mule.
He sets up on a street corner
and the mule draws an immediate crowd. The mule is so funny that the crowds
can't remain standing because they're laughing so hard. Finally, a man
comes up to the peasant and says "I'm a talent scout for The Tonight Show.
I MUST have your mule for our show." Unfortunately, the talent scout had
just been pickpocketed, and had lost his wallet. The only thing of value
he had was a subway token. He convinced the peasant to trade the mule
for the "Magic Token of Good Fortune" and secured the mule.
On the way home, the peasant
realized that he had been taken, and he was broken hearted. He used his
subway token to get him to the edge of the city. When he put the token
in the slot, alarms went off and he was notified that he was the 1 billionth
rider of the subway, and that he just won 50 million dollars.
Meanwhile, the Mule was
so funny that he took over Jay's job, and eventually put Dave, Conan,
John and every other late nighter out of business. The Morale of the story:
A Mule that is funny is soon bartered.
-- Thanks to David Stribling
In the deep forests of equatorial
Africa, two rival tribes were constantly trying to outdo each other. Since
they shared a common hunting area, one might set up fake prey decoys in
order to have the other waste their time in useless locations while the
first would then be able to hunt the better area with out having to worry
about having their catch stolen at the last minute. At other times, they
might kidnap a member of the rival tribe, and paint embarrassing pictures
on the captive's body before releasing him(her) back to his own tribe.
The two tribes were mostly
non-violent, choosing to avoid war, although skirmishes did result when
one side or the other was seen as crossing the line past acceptable competition.
On such occasions the two tribal Kings would meet to personally resolve
the matter and even administer discipline if required.
On one occasion, a group
of warriors of one tribe stole the throne of the other tribe's King. Although
this throne was big and heavy, they dragged it through the forest to their
own village and displayed it in the tribal gathering structure where the
village held its ceremonial meetings and celebrations. The local King
was very pleased with the prank, but was jealous of his rival having a
bigger and better throne than he did. He knew that if the throne was not
returned in a couple of days, the rival King would visit to retrieve the
throne and demand the guilty parties be punished. On the other hand, he
wanted to keep the throne for himself. The council agreed that the throne
could be hidden in the rafters of their ceremonial house until the other
tribe gave up looking for it; leaving the local King to claim it as his
own in time. To celebrate this great achievement and their clever plan,
a party was thrown in the ceremonial house that evening. While the party
was in progress in the building, the heavy weight of the throne stowed
in the rafters caused the whole edifice to collapse injuring many of the
tribesmen inside. The rival King arrived and uncovered the whole plan,
prompting him to remove the throne and to discipline the local King for
participating in the theft.
The moral of the story is
that people who live in grass houses, shouldn"t stow thrones.
-- Thanks to Elmer Thiessen
There was this western town
whose ranchers were being bothered by a cougar. This cougar had attacked
the ranchers livestock on many occassions. The ranchers in this town hired
the famous Roy Rogers to lead a posse to track down this cougar and kill
Roy lead this posse wearing
his brand new alligator skin boots. he had just acquired them as was
very proud of the way they looked.
After tracking the cougar
for a number of days, they finally came upon him. Roy took a shot but
missed, letting the cougar get away. That night the posse set up camp.
While everyone was sleeping, the cougar attacked the campsite, but was
chased off without anyone getting hurt. Unfortunately in the foray, the
cat did destroy Roy alligator skin boots.
Roy was very upset about
losing his new boots. He rode back to town (which was painful without
boots), got an old pair of boots, and went out after the cougar by himself.
After a few days of tracking, he caught up with the cougar. He picked
up his rifle, aimed, and with one shot, killed the cougar.
He placed the cougar on
the back of the horse and rode back to town with it. As the ranchers in
town saw the carcass on the back of the horse they came out and cheered
Roy's success. As he rode up in front of the hotel, surrounded by cheering
ranchers and townfolk, Dale Evans came out of the hotel and asked, "Pardon
me, Roy, is that the cat that chewed your new shoes?"
-- Thanks to Marc W. Solomon
A librarian is working
away at her desk when she notices that a chicken has come into the library
and is patiently waiting in front of the desk. When the chicken sees that
it has the librarian's attention, it squawks, "Book, book, book, BOOK!"
The librarian complies,
putting a couple of books down in front of the chicken. The chicken quickly
grabs them and disappears.
The next day, the librarian
is again disturbed by the same chicken, who puts the previous day's pile
of books down on the desk and again squawks, "Book, book, book, BOOK!"
The librarian shakes her
head, wondering what the chicken is doing with these books, but eventually
finds some more books for the chicken. The chicken disappears.
The next day, the librarian
is once again disturbed by the chicken, who squawks (in a rather irritated
fashion, it seems), "Book, book, book, BOOK!" By now, the librarian's
curiosity has gotten the better of her, so she gets a pile of books for
the chicken, and follows the bird when it leaves the library. She follows
it through the parking lot, down the street for several blocks, and finally
into a large park. The chicken disappears into a small grove of trees,
and the librarian follows. On the other side of the trees is a small marsh.
The chicken has stopped on the side of the marsh. The librarian, now really
curious, hurries over and sees that there is a small frog next to the
chicken, examining each book, one at a time. The librarian comes within
earshot just in time to hear the frog saying, "Read it, read it, read
-- Thanks to Tony Quon
Once upon a time there
was a large and prosperous Kingdom run by a wise and powerful King. Then
disaster struck in the form of a strange plague, which caused people to
sicken and die horribly within a few weeks. The population of the Kingdom
was declining rapidly. All the physicians in the land were called to the
Kingdom, but none of them had any idea of what to do about this new disease.
The oldest of the physicians
said that he had once heard that many years ago, when his grandfather
was a boy, the Kingdom had been struck by just such a mysterious sickness.
The pestilence had been ended with a magic potion prepared by an old sorceress.
It was said that she was still alive, but her home was in the middle of
the Dark Forest.
"The Dark Forest!" everyone
gasped. They all knew that the Dark Forest was the most dangerous place
in the region. Perhaps the most dangerous place in the entire world, for
in the Dark Forest lived the Yellow Fingers, which grabbed any traveler
who entered and would squeeze him to death. But no one could come up with
another plan to save the Kingdom, so it was decided that someone had to
defy the Yellow Fingers and find the ancient sorceress in the middle of
the Dark Forest.
The King called his bravest
Knight and explained the situation. Without hesitation, the brave Knight
marched off into the forest ... and was never heard from again.
The King then called his
second bravest Knight. The second bravest Knight hesitated for a moment
before going into the fatal forest. But once he went in ... and was never
heard from again.
So the King called his
third and fourth bravest Knights, who took a bit more persuading. None
of them ever returned from the forest. Finally the remaining Knights,
who were not very brave at all, went into hiding.
The King was reduced to
a state of despair. Then one of the King's young pages, came to him and
offered to go into the Dark Forest and get the magic potion from the old
The King was touched by
the boy's foolish bravery, but he said, "Don't you realize that the Dark
Forest is the home of the Yellow Fingers, and that many of my bravest
Knights have perished there?"
The boy said that he knew
all about it, but he was still quite sure that he would be able to accomplish
his mission. In the end the King reluctantly agreed to let the page go.
He was so desperate that he didn't know what else to do.
The Page walked off into
the Dark Forest, and the King confidently expected never to see him again.
Therefore the King was not merely surprised but very nearly hysterical
with joy when, two days later, the Page came walking out of the Dark Forest
clutching the formula for the magic potion that would save the Kingdom.
"How did you do it?" cried
The page just smiled, and
said, "From now on let your Pages do the walking through the Yellow Fingers."
-- Thanks to Merl Whitebook,
Troop 1, Tulsa, Okla
I remember it was about
that time that Jim Sloane used to work in our Finance Branch. Now that
was a character. He was, in my opinion, an unusual individual who was
interested in some rather exotic subjects. The most unusual thing about
him was his pet, (rumoured to have been captured somewhere in Africa)
which reminded me of a piece of granite with eyes, which he called Teddy.
Teddy typically just sat there, doing nothing, but sometimes it lifted
a lower edge and sucked in powdered sugar. That was all it ate. No one
ever saw it move, but every once in a while it wasn't where people thought
it was. There was a theory that it moved when no one was looking.
Bob Laverty, a Management
Services employee, constantly ridiculed poor Teddy, saying mean and nasty
things about it. Laverty's pet looked like an iguana, and to me, at least,
was the ugliest looking thing that you would ever want to see. He called
this 'iguana' by the unlikely name of Dolly.
Well, one day Sloane had
had enough of these comments, and challenged Laverty to a race. His Teddy
against Laverty's Dolly. And to make things a bit more interesting, he
suggested a rather hefty wager on the outcome, which Laverty quickly agreed
to. Soon everyone got into the act. Every one of them bet on Dolly. At
least it moved. Sloane covered it all. He'd been saving his salary for
some time (for some exotic project, no doubt) and put every penny of it
The race course was set
in the basement garage. At one end, two bowls were set out, one with powdered
sugar for Teddy, and another with ground meat for Dolly. Dolly started
off at once and began moving along the floor slowly toward the meat. All
in attendance cheered it on.
Teddy just sat there without
"Sugar, Teddy. Sugar."
said Sloane, pointing. Teddy did not move. It looked more like a rock
than ever, but Sloane did not seem concerned.
Finally, when Dolly had
'ran' half-way across the garage, Sloane said casually to Teddy, "If you
don't get out there, Teddy, I'm going to get a hammer and chip you into
That was when people realized
how truly different Teddy was. Sloane had no sooner made his threat when
Teddy just disappeared from it's place and re-appeared smack on top of
Sloane won, of course,
and he counted his winnings slowly and luxuriously.
Laverty said bitterly,
"You knew the damn thing would do that."
"No, I didn't," said Sloane,
"but I knew he would win. It was a sure thing."
"How come ?", said Laverty.
"It's an old saying everyone
knows. Sloane's Teddy wins the race."
--Thanks to Jim Speirs
Freddy Fish and Sam Clam
were the best of friends, and did everything together. One day, though,
both perished in a freak mishap. Freddy Fish went to heaven, and immediately
looked around for his best friend. Not finding him, he asked St. Peter
where Sam was.
"Sorry, he didn't make
"You mean he's down there?"
"Well, I want to go see
"This is highly unorthodox,"
said St. Peter. "I'll ask the big guy."
Moments later St. Peter
returned and said:
"You can go, but you can
only stay for one hour."
"Great!" said Freddy, and
grabbed his harp before anyone changed their minds. He went to the elevator,
and went down.
When the elevator doors
opened, Freddy saw a huge sign:
He went in, and discovered
that it was run by his old friend. They sat down and reminisced about
old times, and had a few drinks. Time flew by, and when Freddy noticed
his watch, he saw that he had fifteen seconds left to return. He jumped
out of his chair, yelled a goodbye to Sam Clam, and raced to the elevator.
The elevator doors opened
in heaven with only one second to spare. St. Peter was standing there
with a stopwatch.
"You just barely made it,"
said St. Peter.
"I know," panted Freddy,
out of breath. "But I have to go back there!"
"What do you mean!?!" asked
an incredulous St. Peter.
So Freddy Fish says (*
"I left my harp in Sam
-- Thanks to "The Giant
Panda - B.J.O.D. Owner / Moderator"
Many years ago a traveler came
to the ancient land of Day. As he traveled through the country side he saw
many fields and pastures. The people working the land all appeared to be
peasants, living in abject poverty. However all he passed seemed to be in
good spirits. Asking a peasant how he could be so happy while living in
such an impoverished state the man told him that this land was ruled by
a huge, intelligent and benevolent bear called King Mu. He continued to
inform the traveler that while he was poor now he could, when he thought
he was ready, participate in a kind of rite of passage and become a knight.
Asking what was involved
in this rite the peasant replied,"You know the usual stuff, drinking till
dawn, reciting sports scores from five years past, telling tall tales
about women he had never met, discussing the advantages of the designated
hitter rule, and many other things of similar difficulty." The traveler
agreed that would be a grueling test indeed. "Tell me peasant, what are
the rewards for passing such a test?" asked the traveler.
"Why, sir, when you are
made a knight you receive all the goodies. You get things like a Royal
Express card. No limit on those things you know sir. You can move to a
nice Condo on the beach, and maybe even get a trophy wife to replace the
one you got now."
"Amazing!", said the traveler
,"This I would have to see to believe."
"There's a test going on
now in the capital." said the peasant.
So the traveler moved on
down the road to the capital to see for himself if all was as the peasant
had said. Passing through the gates and into the beautiful capital city
he saw that the Festival of Testing was indeed in progress. In the center
of the town, on a raised ornate throne sat King Mu, who was indeed a bear
and looked that if he stood , would be at least twelve feet tall. Moving
through the crowd the traveler saw three men standing before the throne.
Two of the men looked to be in fine shape, clear of eye, with their collars
buttoned down and wearing a neck scarf in a power color. Both had at some
point in the competition won the honorary Rolex sun dial, which they wore
on their wrists. The third man however, looked horrible. His eyes were
blood shot, and as he stood holding his head, he looked like he was not
to steady on his feet.
Rising from his throne
the king approached the two men and placing a huge paw on each of their
shoulders the king announced, " These two men I make knights and grant
unto them all the privileges they deserve." Turning to the third man the
king said, "This man did not however pass the test." With that he raised
a paw and much to the traveler's horror struck the man down, killing him
on the spot. At that point a king's aide brought forth a great shaggy
dog , at least four foot at the shoulder, and presented it to the grief
stricken family. Turing in shock and confusion, the traveler asked the
man standing next to explain what had just transpired.
"Why, everyone knows,"
said the man, "there's nothing better, after a bad Day's knight, than
the dog of the bear the hit you."
-- Thanks to Hugh & Terry
Three friars were banished
from their monastery for various rule violations, so they decided to start
a business together. They traveled around until they found a town that they
liked, and opened up a plant shop. Their floral business was soon thriving.
One day, a woman was shopping
at the friar's store, and while she was strolling down an aisle with her
toddler, a large plant reached out, grabbed the child, and ate it. Needless
to say, the women was quite upset at the loss of her child. However, the
friars refused to believe that one of their plants could have done such
a thing. The woman told all of her friends about the incident, and soon
everyone in the town was in an uproar. They decided to kick the friars
out of town. Every person in the town, except for a man named Hugh, gathered
outside of the friars shop, shouting, waving sticks, and demanding that
they leave. But the friars said "No. We're not leaving". So the townspeople
gave up and went home.
Well, a couple weeks later,
another woman was walking through the friar's shop, looking at plants
with her baby, when a plant grabbed her child and ate it. She ran through
the streets screaming that a plant had swallowed her baby. The townspeople
were outraged, and again gathered outside the floral shop (except for
Hugh), waving torches, and demanding that the friars leave town at once.
But the friars said, "No way." and all the people gave up and went home.
A few days later, yet another
woman dared to take her child into the floral shop. She held her infant
tightly in her arms, but it was no use. A large ficus wrestled the child
from her arms, and ate it.
When the townspeople heard
of this, they were extremely upset. They again gathered outside the friar's
store (except for Hugh), yelling and threatening bodily harm to the friars
if they didn't leave town. But the friars said, "We're staying". So, the
citizens gave up and began to go home. Just then, Hugh showed up. He walked
up to the friars, and said, "Get out of town, now!". The friars immediately
packed up all their belongings and fled that very day, never to be heard
The moral of this story
is: Only Hugh can prevent florist friars.
-- Thanks to Hugh B. Fitler
There was once a rabbi
who undertook a missionary-style trip to a South American rain forest
country. He was to spend a year with a very primitive, remote tribe known
only as the Trids. The rabbi knew that the only way to gain their acceptance
would be to adopt all of their many tribal customs, such as dress, diet,
studying their beliefs and so on. Much of this was difficult to learn
for the city-born rabbi, but as the months progressed he grew in the many
ways of the Trids.
One day, returning from
an extended walk in the rain forest, the rabbi entered the tribal village
to find the entire Trid tribe lined up side by side in the village commons
area. Behind this line walked the tribal chief. One by one he would stop
behind each tribe member and deliver a swift kick to the rear end. This,
thought the rabbi as he watched, is one of the strangest rituals I've
seen yet. But he knew that he must participate if he wished to win their
confidence. Solemnly he took his place at the end of the line. The chief
reached the end of the line and was just about to deliver the kick when
suddenly he realized that it was the rabbi before him.
"I cannot do this thing",
said the chief firmly. The rabbi was shocked. Wasn't he yet accepted by
"Why not?" he asked.
The chief replied, "Silly
rabbi! Kicks are for Trids!"
-- Thanks to Hugh & Terry
The armies of Alexander
the Great were greatly feared in their day, but there was one problem
that they had that almost defeated them. Alexander could not get his people
to staff meetings on time. He always held the meetings at 6:00PM each
day after the day's battle was done, but frequently his generals either
forgot or let the time slip up on them and missed the staff meeting. This
angered Alexander very much, to say the least!
So he called in his research
guys and set up a project to come up with a method of determining the
time at 6:00PM each day. There were no clocks in those days, at least
none that could be carried around. (The smallest was a giant water clock)
"Find a way my staff can determine the hour of the day, or at least when
it gets to be 6 o'clock!", he said, "Cost is no object."
A study was instituted
and, with several brain-storming sessions, came up with the following
idea. In a land some distance away, there grew a bush whose berries contained
a type of dye that changed color at 6 each evening. They found that by
dyeing strips of cloth and issuing them to the generals, they could see
when it was 6 by the color change, and could get to the meetings on time.
Needless to say this pleased Alexander very much.
It was then turned over
to the marketing group to come up with a name of this new invention as
Alexander saw definite market potential in the strips. "It can be worn
on the wrist and can be easily watched for the color change", said one
junior executive. "I therefore propose to call it the wrist watch." This
name was immediately hooted down as being too bland and obvious. Another
man suggested it be worn in the navel and could be observed by looking
down, therefore it should called the Navel Observatory. This idea was
rejected out of hand as being too weird and too technical sounding for
the general public.
Finally the senior vice
president, who up to now had been silent, spoke and rendered his decision.
"We shall call it a Timeband, and in honor of the Great Alexander, it
shall be known as 'Alexander's Rag Timeband!'
-- Thanks to Hugh & Terry
Life was desperate in rural
Holland. As far as he could remember, the poor little dutch boy could
remember nothing but hardships. Food was scarce, his father was abusive,
and there was nothing to do after school but chores. Every day was another
hardship. The boy loved to dive from the windmill into the canal, but
his father hated to find that he had skipped out on his chores. Whenever
he returned, his father would beat him. However, if he didn't skip out,
his fater would find a reason to beat him anyhow. Life was nothing but
hardships, except for the secret escapes to practice diving from the windmill.
Eventually the boy, now
in his late teens, heard of a great contest in far-away Atlanta. The best
divers in the world, along with the best of everything else would meet
to decide who was REALLY the best. It would be the perfect escape from
the hardships of his mundane life.
He runs away from home,
sneaks aboard a freighter in Rotterdam and waits. No good. Of course,
he is discovered. Beaten by the crew, bloody, he is sent home to his unimpressed
father, who finds new hardships for him to endure.
A better storyteller than
I could tell you of his next four or five attempts to get to the Atlanta
games, each of which failed, yielding nothing but ever more painful hardships.
The poor little dutch boy stoicly endured each of them, perservering and
Eventually, he stows away
in a cruise liner heading for the USA. He isn't found until four days
out at sea. The captain has the discretion of calling for a chopper to
take him back to the Netherlands, or to let him continue the trip and
let immigration in Atlanta deal with the problem. The captain listens
to the boy describing how he's been doing difficult dives all his life,
and how demonstrating the perfection he's developed to the rest of the
world in Atlanta is his only chance to escape from the hardships of his
The captain decides to
let the boy demonstrate his abilities. If the boy can execute a perfect
dive from the top of the radar mast, he can continue to the Olympics.
So, the radar is turned off, and the boy climbs the hundred feet to the
top of the radar mast. He looks down.
He has never dived from
a ship before. The gentle sway of the ship is magnified by the height
of the radar mast. He didn't expect this. looking down, he sees ... pool,
deck, sea, deck, pool, deck, sea, deck, pool... he jumps! ... and misses!
He crashes right THROUGH the deck! Everyone runs for the stairs to see
if he's OK. There's a splintered hole in the B deck. Even the metal decks
of the C, D, and E decks have been burst. They find the crumpled body
crumpled against the very hull itself, and even that is dented.
Everyone is astonished
when he sits up, dazed, but apparently unhurt. The captain, horrified
and apologetic, rushes forward. "My goodness! I never should have asked
you to try that! Are you OK? " The boy shakes his head and answers:
"That's OK. I'm used to
it. I've been through many HARD SHIPS before."
-- Thanks to Greg Goss
A panda bear escapes from
the zoo and is forced to live on his own. It turns out that he really
enjoys eating in nice resturants, but of course being a panda with no
job and no money he is unable to pay his bill. Being, also, an exceptionally
intelegent panda he devises a scheme that lets him eat in any resturant
One day he decides to try
a particularly nice resturant but when he asks the maitre d' for a table
he's told, "I've hear about you. Your the panda that never pays for his
meal. We won't seat you here." So, the panda leaves the resturant and
sits on a bench across the street from the resturant and contemplates
his empty tummy.
Some while later the panda
sees the maitre d' leave the resturant. The panda goes back and asks the
assistant maitre d' for a table, and is seated by the assistant who has
never heard about the panda's tricks. The panda has a wonderfull meal.
(At this point you may "shaggy dog" this story as much as you like, or
the audience will bear. Give details about the wonderfull meal the panda
Just as he finshes desert
the panda is aproched by the maitre d' who has returned to discover the
assistant maitre d's mistake. When the maitre d' demands payment the panda
pulls a gun, shoots the maitre d' and starts to leave. The assistant maitre
d' stops the panda and asks, "Where do you think you are going?"
"You can't leave!" "Sure I can." "No you can't!"
At which point the panda
produces the encyclopedia voulme "P", opens it and tells the assistant,
The assistant maitre d'
reads aloud: "Panda, an animal indigenous to China that EATS, SHOOTS and
-- Thanks to Dan O'Canna
There once was a man who
decided he had to visit Australia once in his life. He read up on everything
he could find, visited all the Australian web sites on the Internet and
saved his money so he could make this once in a lifetime vacation.
The day finally came when
it all came together and he was ready to leave. He boarded the plane and
some hours later stepped off the plane at Sidney International. Australia
Unfortunately, on his first
day sightseeing, he began to get a bad headache. Thinking it was probably
just jet lag he took two aspirin and continued his tour. The headache
didn't go away, however, so he asked the tour guide where was the best
place to go for treatment. "Sir, you'll want to go to the emergency room
at the Mercy Hospital", the guide told him, "Its not far from here."
At the hospital, the doctor
suggested he stay there overnight for observation and he agreed. He was
assigned a room and a nun who was a nurse came in to see him. When he
told her about his headache, she asked him if he had tried their Koala
tea. "Its made from the fur of the Koala bear and has great healing properties",
she said. He said he was willing to try anything at that point and asked
that she bring him a cup.
Presently, the nun came
back in with a cup of liquid. He looked in the cup and saw it had a mass
of hair in the bottom. Feeling rather nausous, he said he didn't believe
he could drink the tea with all that hair in the cup. "Couldn't you strain
it out or something", he asked.
The nun was indignant.
She said, "Sir, I'll have you know the Koala tea of Mercy is not strained!"
- Thanks to Hugh & Terry
I was Abilene's sheriff.
I think I was the youngest sheriff in the territories. One afternoon,
while I was playing 5-card stud in my favorite saloon, I happened to glance
out towards the street.
I saw a rope ride into
Right away I knew it was
trouble. Nobody likes ropes. This one had been riding all day. It looked
as dry, and it probably smelled as bad, as the old straw broom that One-Eye
Judd has been using in his stable for the last five years. The rope headed
straight for the saloon where I was sitting, obviously hankering for good
whiskey to wash away the trail dust. I could see how the rope moved like
a cobra, maybe 30 feet coiled in the dust and ready to lash out. I checked
my shootin' iron under the table, trying not to be obvious.
The rope used its "head"
to push the saloon's swinging door open. It snaked its way across the
floor to the bar, pulled itself up onto a stool and called for a drink.
The bartender was a new fellow from Larame. He glared at the rope and
said, "Are you a rope?" When the rope answered, "Yes", the bartender said,
"Get out. We don't serve ropes in here." When the rope didn't move, the
bartender carefully reached over the bar, took hold of the rope's main
coil with one hand, while holding its "head" in a death grip with the
other hand, walked to the door, and threw all 35 feet of the noisome thing
out onto the street.
A couple of the men smiled,
but nothing else happened. I relaxed and picked up my cards again. Apparently
there wasn't going to be trouble. But then I heard someone bellow, "That
stinkin' rope is heading for the other saloon! Let's get him!"
I looked at my cards --
4 jacks. Why does trouble always wait till I draw a winner? I hurried
out into the street, just as the rope entered the other saloon. I could
see how tired the rope was, really dragging itself. I felt sorry for the
poor thing, but I didn't let the townfolk see this in my face. One man
can't fight an entire town, if you take my meaning.
In less time than it takes
to load a six-gun, the rope came flying out the saloon door and landed
in a heap in the middle of the street. Well, it was a rope. What else
did it expect?
I knew this affair wasn't
over. So I stood in the shadows and waited. After a few minutes, I saw
two other ropes slinking down the far side of the street. They crossed
over and began to talk with the newcomer. I could hear most of what they
"What happened to you?"
asked one of the local ropes.
The newcomer described
what had happened in each saloon.
"Oh," said third rope,
"obviously you don't know the trick. Watch me."
The third rope unravelled
both of its ends until they looked like paint brushes. Then the rope looped
and twisted itself into a tangled mess. I wondered how it could keep track
of itself like that, or even know where its ends were; but it scooted
handily across the street and under the swinging door of the nearest saloon
and up onto a barstool inside. I was impressed. Can you slide 100 feet
on your stomach with your arms and legs twisted together? I guess ropes
have the instinct for it. I watched as the bartender approached and asked
suspiciously, "Are you a rope?"
The rope replied, "Nope,
I'm afraid not."
-- Thanks to Cathy Porter,
NATIVE TEXAN, Webelos Den Leader, Pack 1087
A doctor was just starting
out on his own, when he found that he just had too much work to do. Now
this man was brilliant, and had particularly good peple skills. Once he
got a patient, they would just not see anyone else.
It seems that this man
had been reading recently about the advances in cloning, and decided to
have a clone made of himself to do his work.
For years it worked perfectly.
His clone took care of all his patients, and he got to relax. However,
the clone began to have some personality disorders. it would insult patients,
and treat them very badly. It got soo bad that business was suffering.
The doctor decided that he just had to get rid of the clone or loose his
So......one morning on
their morning jog.... they jogged right over a bridge. The doctor pushed
the clone over to his death.
The doctor again began
seeing his old patients, and things were going exceptionally well, until
a fisherman "caught" the dead clone body in the river. When the police
found that the real doctor was still, in fact, alive, and that this was
a clone, they didn't know just what to charge the doctor for doing wrong.
After much deliberation, they decided to charge him for... Making an obscene
-- Thanks to Cheryl Rogers