Relay-Version: version B 2.10 5/3/83; site utzoo.UUCP Posting-Version: Notesfiles $Revision: 1.7.0.10 $; site uicsl Path: utzoo!watmath!clyde!cbosgd!ihnp4!inuxc!pur-ee!uiucdcs!uicsl!gooley From: gooley@uicsl.UUCP Newsgroups: net.jokes Subject: Three Extended Puns Message-ID: <6000010@uicsl> Date: Mon, 3-Feb-86 21:34:00 EST Article-I.D.: uicsl.6000010 Posted: Mon Feb 3 21:34:00 1986 Date-Received: Fri, 7-Feb-86 21:12:07 EST Lines: 63 Nf-ID: #N:uicsl:6000010:000:3450 Nf-From: uicsl.UUCP!gooley Feb 3 20:34:00 1986 Here are some more extended-pun or "Father Goose" jokes. They are, as far as I know, original, and I've tried to trim the fat off. (There's a real challenge in setting up the punch line in as few words as possible.) The first may be obscure to some Americans, the second is mildly offensive to Beatles fans, and the last may annoy Shakespeareans and is a bit scatological. 1. A revolution in a small African country paralyzed an English firm that made rare-earth alloys; most of the Muth tribe, which ran mines producing the needed ores, had been overrun and thrown into makeshift concentration camps. The new rulers refused to sell any ore, so the firm hired Glore and Landry, Ltd., basically a private espionage service, who sent in their best man, Roger Hope. "Do whatever it takes, Roger," said Sir John Landry, his boss, "but get that ore moving again." Hope was an unorthodox idealist: he gathered together the few Muth still at liberty and built a guerilla force that broke open the camps and pulled off a nearly bloodless coup. When he returned to England, Hope asked his firm to fake his death and help him assume a new identity. Sir John was amazed. "Is it all the publicity? Will it keep you from being effective?" "It's not that, Sir John," answered Hope. "It's just that I'm sick and tired of being called: Hope of Glore and Landry, free-er of the Muth." 2. "So, how did the class reunion go?" I asked. "Kinda fun. Some sad moments, though. Remember Lucy? I found out she died," he answered. "How awful! What happened?" "She got a job at a chemical plant. Keith Simons was working there. You know what those two were like. Couldn't think of anything but sex." I nodded. "Anyway, one lunch break they sneaked out to a favorite spot right in the middle of the factory and started making love. They rolled under a railing and fell right into a vat of Methyl Orange that some idiot had left open. Tragicomic, y'know." He paused for effect. "It reminds me of a Beatles song." "Huh? Which one?" "Lucy in the Dye with Simons." A loyal Beatles fan, I hit him. 3. Friar Laurence told Romeo that Juliet was getting very drunk every night and suffering massive hangovers every morning. Romeo flew to his beloved. It was true: she was an odd shade of pale green and had bloodshot eyes. At first she wouldn't admit why she drank, but at last she confessed that though she loved him, she couldn't stand his flatulence. Romeo explained that it was due to a distant relative, an Englishwoman who had earned the gratitude of her King and been made Dame Commander of the British Empire [anachronism here, but there's worse to come], but was now impoverished. Her Italian relatives, out of sympathy, had made her their cook, and she was feeding them hearty English fare which disagreed with Romeo's sensitive bowels. Romeo kept eating her food because he hadn't the heart to tell her. But Friar Laurence, said Romeo, had a solution: in the Veronese catacombs there was a shrine with relics of an obscure saint. A night of praying there, followed by a vow that he would control his sphincters, would cure him. Juliet was so overjoyed that her next speech didn't quite scan properly: JULIET: O Romeo, Romeo, therefore fartest thou, Romeo! Deny thy fodder and refuse thy Dame. Or if thou wilt not, be butt-sworn, my love, And I'll no longer be so crapulous. Of course they didn't live happily ever after... uiucdcs!uicsl!gooley