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Monday-Punday #22

Monday-Punday #22

 

Well, it’s THAT time again, and SirLoin can serve up another set of groaners. Look at it this way … it keeps your vocal cords alive and active …

 

At 4pm, White Pawn Alice made it to the 8th rank. She was crowned as a White Queen, captured the Red Queen and checkmated the Red King. This was surely a case of when the Reign is Canceled because of the Game.

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It seems that an elephant got too close to all the baby ducks the circus had brought in for Easter, and accidentally inhaled a bunch of them. The poor elephant was choking on them and no one could help. (Ever tried doing the Heimlich on a pachyderm?) Finally the trainer goosed him — and the elephant blew out a whole trunk full of downy feathers. Yep! THAT’S WHAT HE GETS FOR SNORTING QUACK.

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Let’s not forget the Pututui in the South Pacific who received a golden throne as a gift from an Ambassador. Well, in Pututui they sit on the floor so the King instructed his servants to put the throne in the attic of his thatched lodge. Unfortunately, it was too heavy for the bamboo support members and fell on the King while he was sleeping and killed him. It just goes to show, people who live in grass houses shouldn’t stow thrones.

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If James Bond worked for a pickle company, he’d be licensed to dill.

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Paints were a very precious quantity in the good old days, and British merchants could make a small fortune supplying paints to the colonies.

One company sent a clipper ship full of red paint across the ocean. It had the very bad luck to collide with another ship full of blue paint.

As a result of this disaster, both crews were … marooned.

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Bob Hill and his new wife Betty were vacationing in Europe, as it happens, near Transylvania. They were driving in a rental car along a rather deserted highway. It was late, and raining very hard. Bob could barely see 20 feet in front of the car.

Suddenly the car skids out of control! Bob attempts to control the car, but to no avail! The car swerves and smashes into a tree.

Moments later, Bob shakes his head to clear the fog. Dazed, he looks over at the passenger seat and sees his wife unconscious, with her head bleeding! Despite the rain and unfamiliar countryside, Bob knows he has to carry her to the nearest phone.

Bob carefully picks his wife up and begins trudging down the road. After a short while, he sees a light. He heads towards the light, which is coming from an old, large house. He approaches the door and knocks.

A minute passes. A small, hunched man opens the door. Bob immediately blurts, “Hello, my name is Bob Hill, and this is my wife Betty. We’ve been in a terrible accident, and my wife has been seriously hurt. Can I please use your phone??”

“I’m sorry,” replied the hunchback, “but we don’t have a phone. My master is a doctor; come in and I will get him!”

Bob brings his wife in. An elegant man comes down the stairs. “I’m afraid my assistant may have misled you. I am not a medical doctor; I am a scientist. However, it is many miles to the nearest clinic, and I have had a basic medical training. I will see what I can do. Igor, bring them down to the laboratory.”

With that, Igor picks up Betty and carries her downstairs, with Bob following closely. Igor places Betty on a table in the lab. Bob collapses from exhaustion and his own injuries, so Igor places Bob on an adjoining table.

After a brief examination, Igor’s master looks worried. “Things are serious, Igor. Prepare a transfusion.” Igor and his master work feverishly, but to no avail. Bob and Betty Hill are no more.

The Hills’ deaths upset Igor’s master greatly. Wearily, he climbs the steps to his conservatory, which houses his grand piano. For it is here that he has always found solace. He begins to play, and a stirring, almost haunting, melody fills the house.

Meanwhile, Igor is still in the lab tidying up. His eyes catch movement, and he notices the fingers on Betty’s hand twitch, keeping time to the haunting piano music. Stunned, he watches as Bob’s arm begins to rise, marking the beat! He is further amazed as Betty sits straight up!

Unable to contain himself, he dashes up the stairs to the conservatory. He bursts in and shouts to his master:

“Master, Master! … The Hills are alive with the sound of music!

 

 

— Ahhhhh, the lovely sound of G. R. O. A. N. S. —

 

 

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