Arrest
OFFICER: Peter Trent, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain serpent. Anything you say...
TRENT: What?
OFFICER: You are under arrest. You have the right to remain serpent. Anything you say can be used against you in a court of law...
TRENT: Look, officer, I don't think you want to say I have the right to remain serpent!
OFFICER: Err, why not, sir?
TRENT: I'm sure that's not how it goes!
OFFICER: Let me see. (Quickly) "So and so, you are under arrest, you have the right to remain..." err... Right. Let me call the station.
Hello, sergeant, what do we say when we arrest somebody? No, not that. The "You are under arrest, you have the right" bit. What? You have the right to remain solvent? No, that's the white-collar-crime squad... I see. Thank you.
Anyway. I'd better go back to the station to clear this up. You are coming with me.
TRENT: Why?
OFFICER: You are under arrest!
TRENT: No, I think it goes: "You are under a rest". I'll be resting now.
OFFICER: I'm telling you you are under arrest!
TRENT: How can you be so sure? You just told me I had the right to remain serpent!
OFFICER: Well. I'm going back to the station anyway. (Leaves.)
TRENT slithers away to catch a mouse.
Trudeau's Court
JUDGE: Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you have all been sworn in. As you know, according to the guidelines of the Trudeau era, we selected, very correctly, a diverse group of people: a red Indian, a bartender, a soldier, a construction worker, a cowboy, Leatherman, an astronaut, a burglar, an imam, a pokémon and a snowman. Every second member of the jury is female, and every third one wants to be one.
I hereby put on the hijab I have to wear out of solidarity to our free Moslem members of society, and now please line up for the compulsory selfies.
...
JUDGE: Is the Crown ready for the opening statement?
PROSECUTOR: The Crown is ready, your Worship.
Ladies, gentlemen, and everything between, Red Indian, Bartender, Soldier, Construction Worker, Cowboy, Leatherman, Astronaut, Burglar, Imam, Pokémon and Snowman, the Crown would like to move that we find the defendant guilty without charge.
JUDGE: What? The court will have to remind the Crown that this is a court of law where people's freedom is decided. The Crown will refrain from frivolous requests.
PROSECUTOR: The Crown understands the court's concern, your Worship. But we must point out that in our penal system the population is not yet represented in a diverse manner, and this society decided that it is an injustice we have to remedy.
JUDGE: What does the Crown mean?
PROSECUTOR: As your Worship is probably familiar with the case, the defendant is a female plumber who is a lesbian. And there is not a single person in Canada who represents the lesbian plumbers in our entire prison system. The Crown assigns it a judicial oversight that will have to be remedied immediately. The Crown rests.
JUDGE: This puts a new complexion on the case. The court orders the jury to find the defendant guilty.
African Lion Safari
Sir, can I interest you in an African Lion safari season pass?
Is it a safe place?
Well, we haven't lost one yet.
Really?
Oh... At least not this year.
Oh?
Well... Nobody you'd know anyway...
What do you mean? You practically fed my wife to that lion last week!
Oh, yes. Sorry.
You know, I have a good mind to go to the small claims court on this one.
I'll tell you what. How about we give you a pass at half the price?
Oh well. I'll take two then.
Who's that with you?
My mother-in-law.
Hijack
HIJACKER: Hijack!
PILOT: The name’s Tom.
HIJACKER: What?
PILOT: My name is Tom. So, don’t say “Hi, Jack”. You’ll have to say “Hi, Tom.”
(in the PA)
PILOT: Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. My name is Tom. If you want to greet me in the cockpit, please don’t say “Hi, Jack”.
(muffled screams and panic from the passengers)
HIJACKER: No, this is a hijack.
PILOT: Oh.
(pause)
PILOT: You were correct then.
HIJACKER: Yes.
PILOT: Sorry for lecturing you. I mean, you did sound like you were trying to say “Hi” to me.
HIJACKER: Never mind that! This is a hijack!
PILOT: Oh.
(pause)
PILOT: Right, right. Tell you the truth, I was wondering, “Why is this chap storming the cockpit just to say ‘Hi’?” I mean, it looked a bit silly if you get my meaning…
HIJACKER: I said, never mind all that!
PILOT: No, I’m afraid you didn’t. You said “never mind” to my remark about believing you were just saying “Hi” to me.
HIJACKER: Oh, dear.
PILOT: So, what can I do for you?
HIJACKER: You’ll have to alter the course of the flight.
PILOT: Of course I’ll have to alter the course of the flight. We are going to Miami. You don’t think airplanes just keep flying straight once they take off, do you?
HIJACKER: I mean, we are not flying to Miami.
PILOT: We certainly do! This is the Miami flight! Didn’t you read the schedule?
HIJACKER: You are going to have to change that.
PILOT: What, change the schedule? You don’t think we pilots print those, do you? I mean, our hands are full just flying the plane. We don’t make up those.
HIJACKER: You are going to land this plane in a different country.
PILOT: What country?
HIJACKER: Wait. It’s on the tip of my tongue…
(pause)
HIJACKER: Some place that begins with a “Q”… I’ve got it! It’s “Quba”!
PILOT: Look, my friend, Cuba doesn’t start with a “Q”!
(short pause)
HIJACKER: It does when you pronounce it!
PILOT: Oh, yeah. It does.
(pause)
PILOT: You’ll have to pay to extend your ticket then. And so do all the other passengers.
HIJACKER: What?
PILOT: Well, there is the extra fuel. And insurance. Baggage redirection. Landing fee. Foreign tax. Security…
HIJACKER: You don’t think passengers will pay for SECURITY on a hijacked plane!
PILOT: Oh.
(pause)
PILOT: Well, maybe not security then. But what about those other expenses? Somebody will have to cover those…
HIJACKER: Shut up!
(pause)
PILOT: Listen, now that the plane is hijacked, couldn’t we go to Barbados? I don’t want to knock Cuba, but I’ve always wanted to see Barbados. I’ve asked for a transfer to that flight, but do they listen to me? Oh, no! It’s always Miami. Please say yes. If you say yes I’ll give you a 10% discount on the way back!
HIJACKER: Er… I don’t know… Let me see…
(second hijacker storms the cockpit)
SECOND HIJACKER: Hijack!
PILOT AND HIJACKER: The name is Tom! Listen to your announcements!
SECOND HIJACKER: No, this is a hijack!
HIJACKER: We know this is a hijack, I announced it already!
SECOND HIJACKER: Oh.
(pause)
SECOND HIJACKER: Well, where are you going?
PILOT: To Barbados.
SECOND HIJACKER: No, you are not. We are all going to Venezuela!
HIJACKER: We are going to Barbados. Two to one. And I was here first!
SECOND HIJACKER: Wait, you don’t even have a gun.
HIJACKER: What?
SECOND HIJACKER: You are not even a proper hijacker! You don’t have a gun. You are pointing a pen at the pilot!
HIJACKER: Of course I don’t have a gun. Who do you think I am? Didn’t you hear guns were against the regulations? Guns are dangerous! What are you trying to do? Blow us up or something?
SECOND HIJACKER: How do you want to hijack a plane without a gun?
HIJACKER: Er, it’s in the brochure of the airline. “We yield to hijack without any weapon at all. Hopefully, it will educate future hijackers that they don’t need to carry dangerous weapons on our flight, making it safer for everybody.” Put that gun away!
SECOND HIJACKER: But I want to go to Venezuela!
PILOT: Well, why didn’t you take the Venezuelan flight then?
SECOND HIJACKER: Oh. I could have, couldn’t I?
PILOT: Tell you what: we go to Barbados and we’ll drop you off over Venezuela then.
SECOND HIJACKER: Oh. All right.
(in the PA)
PILOT: Ladies and gentlemen, this flight has been hijacked. We are not, I repeat, not going to Miami.
(applause and “hooray” from the passengers) - end
Hood
Once upon a time (Only once because she wasn't Buddhist) there lived a girl called Little Red Riding Hood. Her father was a mailman, or, to be exact, her father was the
mailman, but her mother didn't tell her father, so there was no scandal.
Her name was a big mistake by her parents: Later she changed it to Big Red Riding Hood and she was observed to ride with hoods who knew her as Big Red.
She had a grand mother and a grandmother who was not quite so grand.
This grandmother started feeling sick one day, because nobody can START feeling sick in two or three days.
So, the family made up Little Red Riding Hood's mind that she was to go to her cottage and bring some cottage cheese, wine to stop her from whining, and bread that her father had just won on the 649 (He was the breadwinner).
Therefore she headed out in the morning, but not only headed out, she also bodied, armed and footed out (even if we don't usually say that), to leg it to her grandma's cottage.
She went straight to the forest, which was a mistake because the road was not straight at all, although it wasn't gay either, it was quite dark.
In the forest lived the Big Bad Wolf, who had a son called Little Bad Wolf. Big bad Wolf liked his son, so as a father he was just a little bad, he was Big Bad as a Wolf only.
As a provider, the Wolf had to work very hard to attack, kill, maime and dispatch different living beings, so, as we see, he was a good family man.
He was very brave in attacking all those victims who were much weaker and smaller than him.
As he was prowling around in the wood, he met Little Red Riding Hood who was not riding at all, she didn't have a ride, neither a horse.
"You are who are you?" Asked Little Red Riding Hood.
"Ivan Turgenev, the classical Russian novelist," said the wolf because he couldn't think of a better exclamation.
"Why are your eyes so big," asked Little Red Riding Hood.
"Due to Basedow's syndrom, a non-fatal thyroid problem," said the wolf.
"Why is your nose so big?"
"I am a Western character, I don't have that cute little Asian nose."
"Why is your literary character Oleg so disillusioned with contemporary Russian development?"
"Hey, you are supposed to ask me about my teeth now!"
"That would be deMOLARizing.
"Hm...," said the Wolf and, like Kim Philby, he turned back. He also turned body and limbs, it's a mistery why we just mention his back. After he turned, he also left. And right and middle and top and bottom, of course, but English is this funny language, it just goes by tiny body parts.
Little Red Riding Hood continued her journey to Grandma's cottage which was called "cottage" although it had real beds, it did not even have a single cot, but still, we cannot call it a "beddage". Interestingly it had a cab in it, and yet we don't call it a cabbage.
When she got there she rang the bell, which she had to carry with her because there was no doorbell on the door. Just to make sure, she also knocked and yelled as loudly as she could (and she really could!):
"Grandma, this is your granddaughter Little Red Riding Hood! Open the door!"
"Open it yourself, Little Red Riding Idiot, don't you know that I am sick?" asked Grandmother and now you know why we said she wasn't a grand mother.
So, Little Red Riding Hood tried to open the door. Instead, she opened the cottage, of course, nobody can open a door, it's made of one piece!
Even though Granny usually told the truth, now she was lying in the bed.
"Hi," she lied, or better to say, lay, though she hadn't gotten laid for ages. "How are you..."
"Fine..."
"You didn't let me finish: How are you so late?"
"My watch stopped."
"So?"
"I was attached to it. So we both stopped on our way."
Then Grandmother leaped out of the bed and ate the hood.
Murderer
REPORTER: Good evening, everybody. Today I'm talking to axe-murderer John Savage...
SAVAGE: What do you mean, murderer? You reporters always label people!
REPOTER: You did murder three elderly people, didn't you?
SAVAGE: Yes, but anyone could do that any time. How does it make me different? It's typical how you focus on this aspect of my personality only and you use it to identify me! Ax-murderer! I am a person!
REPORTER: You want me to call you an axe-person?
SAVAGE: Don't you realize that what you lump together as "murderers" is a group of people as colourful and diverse as any other social group? No, you have to simplify everything and spread this narrow view of us. Murderer! I'll let you know that I am what we call a surderer.
REPORTER: A what?
SAVAGE: We have developed 54 different words to express our personalities. For example, my personality only identifies with murderers on the weekends: Saturdays and Sundays, so I prefer being called a surderer, please. We need to maintain human dignity.
REPORTER: As I read your indictment, you spat on the mutilated bodies of retired people you had chopped up with an axe. Where was dignity in that?
SAVAGE: But only on Saturdays and Sundays. Have you forgotten my moniker? Of course, once they catch you, society pidgeonholes you as a "murderer". I could kill whenever I think about it.
REPORTER: So you think reporters should memorize those 54 names you give yourselves and tactfully ask each criminal which he prefers?
SAVAGE: Criminal! Have you no shame? Clearly, there is only one solution.
REPORTER: And that is?
SAVAGE: We need to send every reporter to a sensitivity training course where they learn how to address us transjurisdicial persons.
REPORTER: And the victims?
SAVAGE: The victims, too! They need training!
REPORTER: The victims?
SAVAGE: They are the worst! Totally intolerant! I mean, look at Germany. They are raped, they shut up. Their relatives are killed with an axe, they go out and protest against islamophobia. If they don't, they go to jail. Now that's a concept, lock up the victims and let us go! Yes, Germany is way ahead of us.
REPORTER: I've had enough of this! Oh. One minute. Our producer has just slipped a paper on my desk... The station owner, a Mr. Soros says you are right. His university is actually starting a sensitivity course on this. Apparently I'm to attend next Monday....
Paramedics
Paramedics! Open the door! Paramedics!
Yes?
Paramedics. Did you call 911?
Yes.
Where is the victim?
He's not here.
What do you mean he's not here??
What would I mean? He's somewhere else.
With two broken legs? According to the 911 call, he broke both his legs, one arm and his collarbone.
Yes.
Now listen. Nobody can just leave with two broken legs. Did you just make up the accident?
Not at all. He did break his legs.
Both of them?
Both.
Then how did he leave?
Well, he left.
I don't believe it. Do you know that it's against the law to call 911 without a cause? You've tied down an ambulance and a whole crew of paramedics! They need us somewhere else! If people abused the system like this, we could never get to accidents in time! People's lives are at steak!
Yes.
This is punishable by a $500 fine! You will be fined! Now, did you call 911?
Yes, I did.
What have you to say for yourself?
It was six months ago.
So what? The Wynne government's bill 86, the Emergency Services Act, calls for emergency services to appear within eight months from the call! Where is the victim?
He crawled to a doctor in the US, got better in two months, then he moved to Chicago, got married and founded three companies.
Just as I thought! You even admit it! Right. A clear abuse of the system. It will cost you dearly. You will hear from us! Good-bye!
Robbery
ROBBER: Hands up! This is a bust! You, over there! Freeze! One move and I'll blast your head off with this revolver!
MANAGER: Ah! Revolver, eh?
ROBBER: Yes, yes, revolver, so what?
MANAGER: This is not a revolver!
ROBBER: Yes, it is!
MANAGER: No! A revolver is a handgun with a barrel and a drum-like cylinder with any number of breeches rotating in place to be aligned with it, caused by the mechanical force of pulling a trigger. What you have there is a gas-operated, semi-automatic handgun, or pistol, with a box magazine in the handle!
ROBBER: So?
MANAGER: You are not a professional bank robber! I bet you couldn't hit me from ten feet!
ROBBER: You want me to show you?
MANAGER: Don't even think about it! You'd just wound me and I'd have a lot of expensive operations and I'd still be a witness against you! Put that gun down! I bet you don't even know how to operate it! Maybe it's not even loaded or cocked! I bet the safety is on! You are not qualified to rob a bank!
ROBBER: Shut up! I'll let you know I have years of hands-on experience.
MANAGER: Not with guns!
ROBBER: Yes, with guns! I am a good shot. And an expert in operating the Hornady hand-loading system!
MANAGER: Oh yeah? How do you reload a cartridge then?
ROBBER: I unseat the exploded cap...
MANAGER: What! And what about resizing?! And it's called a primer, not a cap. Put down that gun!
ROBBER: Well, I may not know the terminology, but I can still blow your head off. Now open the vault!
MANAGER: Oh yeah? And how do you plan to take away those gold sticks? In your pockets! Amateur!
ROBBER: Gold sticks?! They are called bullions! And you call yourself a bank employee! You have no idea about how banks work!
MANAGER: I call them gold sticks because they ARE big sticks made of gold.
ROBBER: Sure! And I call this gun a revolver because my life revolves around it. You are a sham! Hand over those keys, you are not fit to operate a vault!
MANAGER: Oh really? I have been here for years! I'm much better at my work than you are!
ROBBER: Sure!
CUSTOMER 1: Excuse me, gentlemen. It looks like this bank manager knows much more about guns and you with the gun seem to understand banking better. It may sound crazy, but shouldn't you switch jobs?
CUSTOMER 2: No, that's not a good idea! The guy would know how to shoot, but he wouldn't have a clue what to steal!
CUSTOMER 3: Look, why don't you team up? You'd make a perfect team.
CUSTOMER 1: Except...
CUSTOMER 3: : What now?
CUSTOMER 1: They wouldn't know how to shake the police off their tail.
CUSTOMER 3: Oh, yeah. Why don't you wait till the police are here and team up with them? Then you'd know everything!
ROBBER: All right, shut up! We'll wait for the police! No false move or the bank manager will shoot you!
Snow White
Once upon a time there was a king and a queen. They had a little daughter whom they called Snow White, which was very stupid because they lived in Africa and they were all very black. It just serves to show how little people know about themselves.
Soon enough the King followed the local traditions and killed his wife. Then he married a stepwoman, so Snow White had a stepmother. The stepmother also followed the traditions and wanted to kill Snow White, but Snow White was also a traditional girl and following the habits of her community, she ran away to a forest.
There she found a little house. In the little house there were eight little chairs and eight little beds and nine little plates because the owners failed math several times.
Later that day eight dwarves came. Snow white was very nervous because she knew that one of them must be a fake dwarf! Maybe a spy.
In the meanwhile her stepmother asked her mirror, "Mirror mirror in my hand, who is the fairest in the country?" Because she was hopeless at making rhymes.
The mirror said, "Snow White", but it did not help: Snow White was a fashionable name, so nobody knew which one of the 2,000,000 Snow Whites the mirror meant.
Back in the forest, Snow White could not figure out which dwarf was the spy, so she made eight poisoned apple pies and killed all of them. Then she had to dig seven little holes and one big one, to bury them.
After that she still pretended they were alive, so she made and ate eight apple pies every day. So soon she became so fat she could hardly move around. Which was lucky, because when the prince came, he ran away from the fat ugly Snow White and she could not catch him!
Surgery
(Operating theatre in hospital. Surgeon in, wearing a complete SCUBA outfit.)
NURSE: Excuse me. Is that you, Doctor?
SURGEON: Sure, whom did you expect?
NURSE: Why are you wearing a SCUBA outfit?
SURGEON: Are you surprised? Why, it's the best thing for surgery. See, my body is completely isolated. No piece of hair can fall off my onto the patient, no drop of sweat, and my breathing is self-contained. If I cough, the patient will be grateful I'm wearing this.
NURSE: What about that three-pronged spear?
SURGEON: That's to stabilize the patient. Through the fin, of course, to the table... Er, wait a minute. I think I'd better put it down in that corner.
NURSE: And the dagger?
SURGEON: That, too.
NURSE: What about the flippers?
SURGEON: Those can stay. They just complete the outfit. No point in doing things halfway.
NURSE: Very well, Doctor, The patient is prepped.
SURGEON: Splendid! Hang him upside down, please.
NURSE: What???
SURGEON: Oh, I see. It's fine, him just lying on the table. Now, was he scaled?
NURSE: Scaled, sir?
SURGEON: Or shaved or whatever. Is the skin cleaned?
NURSE: Certainly.
SURGEON: Then let's start with the gills.
NURSE: He hasn't got gills, sir.
SURGEON: Oh, yes, of course. Human being, I see. Stupid human being. Stupid, stupid human being. Stupid, pathetic...
NURSE: Sir?
SURGEON: I know! We give him gills.
NURSE: Doctor, are you all right?
SURGEON: Never better. We give him gills. Of course, the ears must go...
NURSE: But sir, what are you talking about?
SURGEON: Well, after all, this is a cosmetic procedure, isn't it?
NURSE: No, sir! It's a lung surgery!
SURGEON: Lung! Lung!!! (Runs away.)
The Korean Food Critique Sketch
CRITIQUE: Waiter! Can I talk to the manager, please?
MANAGER: I AM the manager, sir.
CRITIQUE: And you are also serving customers? Hrmph. Highly irregular. But let’s overlook it now. Let me introduce myself: I am Dong Jin Kum.
MANAGER: Why did you introduce yourself, sir?
CRITIQUE: Because I like to hear my name. Also, I am a Restaurant Critique for a Korean travel guide.
MANAGER: How can I help you?
CRITIQUE: I came to evaluate your restaurant and I have a few things to tell you.
MANAGER: Yes, sir!
CRITIQUE: First of all the amenities. I am not known to be picky, sir, but do you know it took almost halp an hour to fak my car???
MANAGER: I’m sorry?
CRITIQUE: And that was just the beginning. I could hardly find the place! True, I didn’t have the address, but in my country we can usually locate a restaurant from 4-5 blocks just by the smell of the Kim Chi. Now, this time I even had to ask for directions! I mean, don’t you even ferment your food?
MANAGER: I beg your pardon?
CRITIQUE: Do I have to explain? Look at this coleslaw! Now this is supposed to be a kind of cabbage salad, right?
MANAGER: Yes, sir.
CRITIQUE: But this is almost fresh! I mean, it can’t be more than two days old! Don’t you extend the courtesy to your customers to keep the foods for a month or two before you serve them???
MANAGER: But sir, it’s Canadian cabbage. Are you sure that a Korean food inspector is what we need here???
CRITIQUE: Come on, my man, cooking knows no borders. Korean cooking doesn’t, for sure. They can smell what we are cooking all over the South China Sea.
MANAGER: We are trying our best to serve fresh food, sir.
CRITIQUE: Oh, fresh food, eh? How is your fish? You call it fresh? When I poked it with my fork, it didn’t even move!!! No, sir, that fish was either dead, or very sick, or just plain uninspired! Frankly, it looked DEAD to me!
MANAGER: Certainly, sir. We serve nothing that is still alive.
CRITIQUE: What? You even admit it?! It’s disgusting! No wonder your customers hate your food!
MANAGER: What do you mean, sir? Our customers are generally pleased.
CRITIQUE: Oh, really? Look at that couple. I don’t want to exaggerate, but they must have been eating for more than two minutes now. If they like your food, how can you explain that they are still eating? I mean, after one minute!
MANAGER: Sir, we like to enjoy our food for longer than a minute.
CRITIQUE: Enjoy, you say? See it for yourself! Nowhere a customer with obvious signs of indigestion on his face! No moaning, suffering anywhere. Do you call this enjoyment???
MANAGER: Is that all, sir?
CRITIQUE: Far from it! And I must say this is a serious problem. I looked at your so-called “Hot-Dog” and I have doubts about its origin. I simply didn’t find any dog in it!
MANAGER: No, sir.
CRITIQUE: So, you do admit to false advertising! This is unheard of! I am sorry to say this, but I’ve just come from 45 Dirt Road, from “Joe’s Roadkill And Stuff”, promising fine Canadian dining. Now, that’s what I call cuisine! The food was all at least several weeks old, and everything had a proper look, even the chicken wings looked appetizing, like an old radish. They even managed to make everything smell like old radishes! And I am sure they threw in more than a few chops of dog meat in their “Schnitzel”. And the service was excellent! When I asked them what I can do with my car, they immediately said, “fak it”. I had to give them the four stars! But I’m afraid your establishment is not to be recommended for those of us with refined culinary requirements.
MANAGER: Sorry to hear that, sir. Shall I bring the bill now?
CRITIQUE: Aha! Now, that’s the other sore point. Am I to understand that you are expecting more than six dollars for a mere three dishes?
MANAGER: That is the price, sir.
CRITIQUE: Intolerable! I haven’t even had dessert! I mean, don’t you even bring your guests some sweetened dishwashing water after their meal?
MANAGER: No, sir. Our customers would not like that.
CRITIQUE: That’s it! I am going to recommend that tourists with my taste avoid your restaurant!
MANAGER: Sir… In the name of my customers and staff… Thank you!
Dealers
Good afternoon, sir. What kind of cucumbers are you looking for?
Cucumbers???
Yes, sir. According to the latest statistics, 63% of shoppers want cucumbers, so I thought this is a high enough probability to ask you.
But this is a car dealership!
Oh, dear. Look, don't you have any sense of abstraction? Mathematics is an abstract science.
All right then. Give me a pound of those tiny purple Guatemalan cucumbers.
We don't have cucumbers, sir.
What do you have?
Hondas, Mazdas and dill pickles.
Kosher?
Certainly.
How much are the kosher Hondas?
Twelve dollars and eighty-five cents, sir.
What, the whole car???
Per pound.
OK, I want 30 pounds of Honda, please.
I'm sorry, sir, you'll have to take the whole 1,400 ponds of it.
Fine. I'll take that blue one.
Certainly, sir. Shall I slice it?
What?
Sorry. I used to work at the Deli counter at Bruno's. Force of habit.
I see. No, I'll take it in one piece.
Great. I'll wrap it up in a moment.
- cut to deli store -
...And here are your cucumbers, sir. Er... Would you like the extended warranty?
The what?
Extended warranty, sir. We all guarantee our produce to be fresh, but you can extend the warranty by two more days for only $16.
Sixteen dollars for two days? For a cucumber?? ! I'll have eaten it by then.
How about waxing? Notice our vegetables are all nice and shiny, but we can make them waterproof with an extra coat of wax. Only $20.
No!
All right... (The phone rings. Vendor picks it up.) Hullo... I see. No. He is here right now... I'm not sure. I'll have to ask him. I'll call you back. (Hangs up.) I'm sorry, sir. I want you to have this cucumber, but someone's just called about it. He put in a better offer. Now, normally I'd just sell it to him, but you did pick it first. Besides, you are here and ready to take it. Honestly, I think you should have it.
What???
I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll give it to you for only $12.
But this is a 99 cent cucumber!
I'm sorry, but the customer on the phone did offer $14.
All right, then I'll take that other one.
Sorry, sir, they're all sold.
What kind of shop is this??
I'm sorry... I know! I'll throw in a nice tomato for only $4.
No!
How about a brand new Mazda? If you take the cucumber for $12, you can have this Mazda for
$22,000. I'll throw in the GPS.
Listen, I came to get this cucumber for 99 cents!
How about a Honda?
Er... Is it kosher?...
Window Shopping
Good morning, Mr. Mindifismoke.
Morning, Mr. Barbarian. Did you get the window then?
What window?
Well, you told me last night that you were going window shopping.
Mr. Mindifismoke, window shopping doesn't mean you are actually buying a window!
Oh, really? What did you want to buy then?
Nothing. That's what window shopping means.
You mean nothing but windows?
No, it means you just look through the windows and you don't buy anything.
Why is it called shopping then? I mean it's not like "window looking", eh? Shopping means you are buying things.
(Mrs. Barbarian comes in): Oh, come on, Cuthbert, show him the window you bought!
What? You did buy a window then?
Yes, but not during window shopping. When I was going home I saw there was a garage sale. I thought, if I buy a garage, it must come with a window and I may get a good bargain and all. So I asked the garage sale people about the garage.
Oh yeah? What did they tell you?
That a garage sale doesn't mean they are selling a garage. They wanted me to buy some old books.
Oh, I see. Err... Were they books about garages?
Not at all! They were all kinds of old books, but none of them was about garages. So I told them I didn't want to buy books, I was just window shopping.
Oh yeah? And what did they do then?
They sold me this window