Sunday, February 14, 2010

A parrot, a horse, a candle, a funeral and a golf stick☺

At dawn the telephone rings, 'Hello, Senor Carl? This is Ronaldo, the caretaker at your country house.'

'Ah yes, Ronaldo. What can I do for you? Is there a problem?'

'Um, I am just calling to advise you, Senor Carl, that your parrot, he is dead'

'My parrot? Dead? The one that won the International competition?'

'Si, Senor, that's the one.'

'Damn! That's a pity! I spent a small fortune on that bird. What did he die from?'

'From eating the rotten meat, Senor Carl.'

'Rotten meat? Who the hell fed him rotten meat?'

'Nobody, Senor. He ate the meat of the dead horse.'

'Dead horse? What dead horse?'

'The thoroughbred, Senor Carl.'

'My prize thoroughbred is dead?'

'Yes Senor Carl, he died from all that work pulling the water cart.'

'Are you insane?? What water cart?'

'The one we used to put out the fire, Senor.'

'Good Lord!! What fire are you talking about, man??'

'The one at your house, Senor! A candle fell and the curtains caught on fire.'

'What the hell?? Are you saying that my mansion is destroyed because of a candle?? !!'

'Yes, Senor Carl.'

'But there's electricity at the house! What was the candle for?'

'For the funeral, Senor Carl. '


'Your wife's, Senor Carl', she showed up very late one night and I thought she was a thief, so I hit her with your new Taylor Made R580 XD golf club.'

SILENCE . . . . . . . . . . . . LONG SILENCE . . . . . . . . . .

'Ronaldo, if you broke that driver, you're in deep shit!’

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