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From: jrb@wdl1.UUCP (John R Blaker)
Newsgroups: net.jokes
Subject: groaner (possibly offensive to hunchbacks and armless~mi midgets)M
Message-ID: <118@wdl1.UUCP>
Date: Wed, 28-Dec-83 02:39:58 EST
Article-I.D.: wdl1.118
Posted: Wed Dec 28 02:39:58 1983
Date-Received: Fri, 23-Dec-83 04:55:39 EST
Lines: 101

here's a story the leperchauns told me when i was a sprout:

quasimodo, as you remember, had killed everyone in paris who hated him.  so
after that, his life was as happy as could be expected.  but all good things
must come to an end, and so the time came for quasimodo to retire to a small
cathedral in the french alps.

his final responsibility was to select and train his replacement.  so he placed
an ad in all the finer paris daily newspapers (beginning with the sunday edition,
of course), announcing the opening.

on monday, there was a thump at the cathedral door.  quasimodo lurched down the
thirteen flights of stairs from his room in the bell tower, and answered: "yes?"

outside was a little man with no arms.  "quasimodo?" he asked.

"yes," said quasimodo.

"i've come here to apply for the job of bellringer."

quasimodo just looked at him.  finally he said, "i don't think you're equipped
for the job."

"oh, please give me a chance, quasimodo, it's my life's dream to be the bell-
ringer at notre dame!"

"...very well," quasimodo muttered.  "but don't blame me if you just make a
fool of yourself."

so quasimodo led the little armless man up the thirteen flights of stairs to
the bell tower, and showed him the biggest bell.  "do you think you can ring
that?" he asked.

"i think so," said the little armless man, and gave the bell a shove with his
foot.  the bell swayed.  a little.

"no, no, no, that won't do.  it's just as i said, you're clearly not equipped
for the job.  i'm dreadfully sorry, but--"

"i was just checking its weight.  now comes my try."  and with that the little
armless man took a leap at the bell, smashed into it with his face, and did
actually succeed in producing a faint "bong."

"i'm sorry," said quasimodo, "but you have to ring that bell loudly enough to
alert the people of all paris in times of war."

"one more try, quasimodo," said the little armless man, and took a running,
flying leap at the bell,
knocked it into an arcing swing,
making it ring,
and fell to his death thirteen stories below.

quasimodo sighed.  (what a senseless waste of human life!)  and he trudged down
the thirteen flights of stairs to clean up.  when he got there, several bishops
were debating the identity of the jelly on the floor.

"quasimodo," they asked him, "did you know this man?"

."i didn't get his name," said quasimodo, "but his face rings a bell."

GROOOOAAAAANNN!!!!!AAAAAAUUUUUGGGHHHH!!!!!

the next day

(and you thought i was done!)

there was another knocking at the cathedral door.  again quasimodo lurched down
the thirteen flights of stairs.

there was an identical little armless man at the door.

quasimodo stared.  "haven't i seen you somewhere before?"

"i don't think so.  i'd like to apply--"

"for the bell-ringer's position, yes.  forget it, you can't do it with no arms."

"i'm shocked, quasimodo.  i thought you of all people would be sensitive to the
handicaps of others, and allow them to achieve their full potential."

"this is the seventeenth century, not the twentieth."

"well, just use seventeenth century jargon, but you know what i mean."

so quasimodo took him up the thirteen flights of stairs and, not to belabor
the point, roughly the same thing happened.  the foot, the face-smash, the
flying face-smash, and the bell ringing as the armless one fell to his death.

when quasimodo reached the bottom, the bishops asked him, again, if he knew
the former identity of the latest goo.

"no," said quasimodo, "but he was a dead ringer for the one that was here
yesterday."

BLEEEEAAAAUUUUGGGHHH!!!!!!!!!AAAAAAAAAKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!


top THAT!!!!

evelyn 
(a modified dog)