DMF joke thread

[ducpainter]

It seems that one Sunday, Ms. Jones waited until the end of the church service in their small Texas town to speak with Preacher Smith.

The preacher was talking with members of the congregation as they left when Ms. Jones approached him.

"Preacher Smith, I have something very important I need to ask you."

"I'll be happy to help," he said. "Just let me see everyone off, and then we can talk."

A few minutes later, the preacher turned to Ms. Jones. "Now, how may I help you?"

"Well," she replied, "it's very personal. Could we go someplace more private?"

As they walked toward his office, Preacher Smith assured her that she had come to the right person.

"But you can't tell anyone," Ms. Jones insisted.

"Of course not," he replied. "You can talk to me. I've known you for decades. Why, you've been a member of this church since you were a teenager."

When they reached his office, Preacher Smith could see that she was still reluctant to discuss whatever was troubling her. He continued to reassure her until she finally began.

"Preacher Smith, do you remember that near the end of World War II there was a German POW camp outside of town?"

"Well, that was before my time," he said, "but I've certainly heard about it. You'd remember it better than I would. You've lived here all your life."

"When I was a teenager," Ms. Jones continued, "I used to see the German prisoners working in the fields."

"Yes, I've heard about that," the preacher replied. "But that's ancient history."

"That's not it," she said. "Every once in a while, one of the POWs would escape."

"Yes, I've heard those stories, too. But Ms. Jones, that was decades ago. Surely you don't need to worry about any of that now."

"No, no. That's not it either."

She hesitated, then continued. "One night, when I was a young girl, I heard a noise outside. When I went to investigate, I discovered one of the escaped German soldiers."

"Well, that certainly is interesting," Preacher Smith said, "but surely that isn't what has you so upset."

"No. There's more. I hid him in our attic. I would sneak food and water up to him so no one would know he was there."

The preacher smiled reassuringly. "Ms. Jones, you don't need to worry about that. It was a very long time ago."

"That's still not my problem." She took a deep breath.
"As time passed, I began to notice just how handsome he was. He was big and strong, blond-haired and blue-eyed. He looked like Adonis. And I became very attracted to him."

Preacher Smith nodded sympathetically. "You were both young. You had emotions and desires like any other young people. Being attracted to one another was perfectly natural. There's nothing to be ashamed of."

"That's not my problem either." Ms. Jones hesitated again. "Eventually, one thing led to another... and we had sex."

Preacher Smith leaned back in his chair. "Ms. Jones, that happened more than eighty years ago. You were a young woman, and he was a young soldier. I've known you for decades, and you've always been a wonderful, thoughtful member of this church and this community. Nobody would think any less of you now."

Ms. Jones shook her head impatiently. "Preacher, that's not my problem!"

Finally, Preacher Smith asked, "Then what in the world has you so upset?"

Ms. Jones looked at him and asked, "Do you think I should tell him the war is over?"