DMF joke thread

[Randimus Maximus]

A couple had two little boys who were always getting into trouble. Their parents knew that if any mischief occurred in their village, their sons were probably involved.

The boys' mother heard that an elder in town had been successful in disciplining children, so she asked if he would speak with her sons. The elder agreed, but asked to see them separately.

So, the mother sent her youngest son first, in the morning.

The elder, a huge man with a booming voice, sat the boy down and asked him sternly, "Where is God?" The boy's mouth dropped open, but he made no response.So the elder repeated the question in an even sterner tone, "Where is God!!?" Again the wide-eyed boy made no attempt to answer. The elder raised his voice and bellowed, "WHERE IS GOD!?"

The boy screamed and bolted from the room, ran directly home and dove into a closet, slamming the door behind him.

When his older brother found him hiding, he asked, "What happened?" The younger brother, gasping for breath, replied, "We are in BIG trouble this time. God is missing, and they think WE did it!"

[Duck-Stew]

That's a good one!

[Randimus Maximus]

An elderly man lay dying in his bed.

In death's agony, he suddenly smelled the aroma of his favorite chocolate chip cookies wafting up the stairs. He gathered his remaining strength, and lifted himself from the bed.

Leaning against the wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom, and with even greater effort forced himself down the stairs, gripping the railing with both hands, he crawled down the stairs.

With labored breath, he leaned against the door-frame, gazing into the kitchen. Were it not for death's agony, he would have thought himself already in heaven: there, spread out upon waxed paper on the kitchen table were literally hundreds of his favorite chocolate chip cookies.

Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of heroic love from his devoted wife, seeing to it that he left this world a happy man?

Mustering one great final effort, he threw himself toward the table, landing on his knees in a rumpled posture. His parched lips parted: the wondrous taste of the cookie was already in his mouth, seemingly bringing him back to life.

The aged and withered hand trembled on its way to a cookie at the edge of the table, when it was suddenly smacked with aspatula by his wife.

"Stay out of those," she said, "they're for the funeral."