A Small Killing Puns

At that point it is fired and becomes an ex-Terminator.

It was a knick-knack paddy whack

I guess it was in cold blood

Trevor loved tractors. And I mean, really loved tractors. Forget any obsessions or high-level interests you may have, chances are they pale in the face of Trevor’s love for tractors.

Every day Trevor would get up, in his tractor-themed bedroom in his tractor-themed house, with its tractor-themed wallpaper and tractor-themed carpets, and he would make his bed with its tractor-themed duvet and tractor-themed sheets. He would go downstairs in his tractor-themed pajamas into his tractor-themed kitchen, with its tractor-themed tiles and cupboards, and he would eat his breakfast while perusing the latest tractor-themed magazine or annual.

Trevors’s degree in Agricultural Engineering hung on his living room wall, along with a copy of his thesis, which centred around (you guessed it) tractors. The living room was decorated with all sorts of tractor-related trinkets, including die-cast models, paintings and drawings.

The hedges in Trevor’s front garden were trimmed in the shape of tractors. His lawn was vividly decorated with tractor-driving garden gnomes, and his garden furniture was constructed from various parts from vintage tractor designs.

Trevor just had one thing missing from his otherwise tractor-centric life; he had never actually owned, nor driven, a real tractor.

Not for his lack of trying, of course. Trevor had been to many tractor shows over the years, and visited many farms with friends of his, but none of the tractors he had seen had ever been quite right. Trevor was so knowledgeable about tractors that every single one he had come across had possessed some hidden trait that he wasn’t keen on. His first experience of driving a real tractor had to be perfect.

One day, Trevor was flicking through one of his favourite publications, Powertrain Quarterly, when there was a knock at the door. Trevor answered, and it was his friend and fellow tractor enthusiast, Jeff.

Trevor welcomed Jeff in, and over tea and crumpets served on tractor-themed crockery, they discussed the merits of aluminium drawbars and front-end loaders. Eventually Trevor pressed Jeff to explain the reason for his visit.

“Well” said Jeff, “As I’m sure you know the convention comes to town later”.

The convention. Trevor had been thinking of little else the past three weeks. The neighbouring town annually threw a convention for farmers, particularly farmyard machinery. There would be combine harvesters, lawnmowers, and of course, tractors.

“Yes of course” replied Trevor

Now i know this usually isnt the subreddit to post this, but I met this dude here and i don’t know how else to reach him. We talked for a small bit and he told me he wanted to kill himself over a girl that left him, so if you’re reading this please know that if you still need to get over her: use a ladder

At first the curse just brought him bad luck, causing vital equipment to break and provoking frequent but small injuries to him and his crew. Soon, however, the curse darkened and diggers the man had hired to help work his claim began to die in bizarre ways.

One was killed by an African scorpion that should never have made it to Alaska, let alone have survived the cold. A second drank a gallon of the mercury used to separate the gold from the ore. A third was found with a tree growing up through his body.

The man himself who owned the claim became more and more pale. His eyes became all white. His skin began to give off an overpowering smell of sulfur. He slept all day and at night he wandered the mountain above his claim, coming back each day looking more like a beast than a man.

The curse became so bad the last worker alive ran away to the nearest town to tell the authorities what was happening at the claim.

In an attempt to save the claim owner's life and lift the curse, a priest was brought in by dogsled to perform an exorcism on the man.

A sherriff from the town came with the priest as a bodyguard.

The exorcism was long, but apparently successful. Immediately the man's color returned, the sulfur smell disappeared, and he was able to sleep through the night for the first time in six months.

After the man awoke, the sherriff immediately arrested the man and brought him back to town with the priest. Standing in front of the judge, the sherriff was asked what charge the law had against the claim owner whose life had just been so dramatically turned around.

The sherriff looked at the man, then looked back at the judge and said in a slow and rumbling voice, "Possession as a miner."

They are surrounded by dozens of the fierce blood thirsty warriors armed with clubs and spears. The leader of the warriors approaches the two friends and informs them they are trespassing on sacred land and unless they can prove they are descendants of the Gods they will be killed and eaten.

Bob and Frank realize they have little choice but agree they will attempt any test to try to save their lives.

The chief warrior brings them a bowl full of angry fire ants and drops one small seed into the bowl. He informs them they must put their lips in the bowl and suck as hard as they can. If they manage to suck up only the seed without sucking up an ant then the tribe would know they must be sent from the Gods.

Bob looks wearily at Frank but knowing they have no other options he puts his lips in the bowl and sucks hard. He immediately gets a mouth full of ants and screams in pain as they bite away at the inside of his mouth. Frank now even more nervous takes his turn and to his dismay also receives a nasty mouthful of the viscous buggers.

The warriors leap to their feet and surround the friends, “Now you must die” declares the chieftain. Just as the first spear is raised to Franks throat he screams “Tria-Gan!” The warriors stop dead in their tracks. “What did you say” asked the chief. “Tria-Gan” yelled frank again. Immediately the chief and his warriors turned and fled into the forest.

“Holy shit” said Bob “What did you just say and how did you know it would work?”

“Well” said Frank, “my Mother always told me if at first you don’t suck seed try Tria-Gan.”

Jeff went to his local train station and begged for the job. He got a job, as a janitor. Every day he swept the train car floors. To make his job easier, he added certain style to his sweeping technique. He used a 3 level system for how powerful he wanted to sweep. He had a small sweep for small piles of dust. Medium sweeps for leftover chip bags and plactic bottles. And the Super Mega Large sweeps for when there were spider webs as big as the train.

Jeff was a master sweeper, so he got Promoted!.. To hobo kicking. Nowadays he comes to the train station early in the morning, finds the nearest hobo, and kicks him out. However, Jeff's legs hurt after several strong kicks, so he used his 3 level system in hobo kicking. He had a small kick for tiny, bite sized hobos. Medium kicks for your average sized hobo. And his Super Mega Powerful kick for 300 pound hobos.

Jeff was sooooo good at kicking hobos and he was Promoted!.. to coal shoveling. Jeff arrives 20 minutes before his train departure, loads up with the conductor, and shovels coal. likewise with his legs, Jeff's arms got tired after several large piles of shoveled coal, so he used his 3 level system to rest Jeff's weak arms. Jeff dumps small piles of coal in the incinerator to send the train at a slow pace. He dumps a Medium pile for a somewhat fast pace. But when the train station's 30 miles away and he's scheduled to arrive in 7 minutes, Jeff uses his Big Gargantuan Humongous shoveling strength to send the train at super sonic speed!

After all of Jeff's many years of working for this train station, they finally promote him to Train Conductor! Jeff shows up to work 30 minutes early on his first day, conducts the train for his first time ever, and crashes the train. He injures 30 and kills 13 more. Jeff is sentenced to Death.

The day of Jeff's execution, he's asked for his last meal. Jeff tells the guard that he wants a 13 foot stack of pancakes and a 40 ounce jug of green Kool-Aid. Jeff takes exactly 34 minutes to eat with it all. 26 Mintues later, Jeff is taken to the electric chair.

Jeff sits down in the electric chair, and is strapped in by a nearby guard. After all the safety precautions, they turn on the electric chair.

BZZZZZZ

Nothin happened. The guard is confused and Jeff is confused. The guard trys it again.

BZZZZZZ

Nothing. Jeff doesn't even move a muscle. The guard decides to let Jeff go since he can't kill him. Before Jeff leaves, the guard has one question.

Guard : "Excuse me um, J

The king of a small African nation had an elegant golden throne in his large grass hut. When an old friend came to visit from another nation, he was worried that the man would discover he was a king and treat him differently. He searched frantically for a place to hide the throne, but to no avail. Finally, he decided to have it wedged up in the ceiling of his hut.

When his friend arrived, he went to the hut's opening to greet him. Just then, the ceiling started to give way, and the golden throne fell on the king and killed him.

The moral of the story is this: People who live in grass houses should not stow thrones.

The new rover Curiosity discovered life on Mars tonight. A small group of creatures resembling cats was discovered unfortunately, the rover came down directly on top of the colony killing them. Even millions of miles away, Curiosity kills the cats.

An ancient Babylonian general was involved in a plot to overthrow the king. But, the plot was uncovered, and the king threw him in jail.

The general managed to escape and he fled to a ziggurat several kilometers away to meet his followers. Unfortunately, the ziggurat was one of several in the area, and he wasn't sure his men would find the right one. So, the fugitive general lit a small fire to signal them.

The other generals of the king's army saw the smoke coming from the ziggurat, and they rushed over and killed him.

The moral of the story?

The searching general has determined that smoking ziggurats can be extremely hazardous to your stealth.

I'm a dad, and I told my dad this, so I think it counts. It got a lot of groans, so I think it's great, if a bit long.

I once lived near a small, simple town where there lived named Hugh.

Hugh was a very smart man stricken with a series of personal tragedies earlier in his life. As a result, he moved to this small town and took a job in his local florist shop, relaxing the days away arranging flowers and trying not to think of times past. Hugh grew to love working there.

One day, a disaster struck the town. A small, single engine airplane crashed a block from Hugh's shop, killing those on the plane and setting fire to several buildings, both occupied and empty.

The impact ruptured a gas line, which ultimately exploded, creating a shock wave that caused part of the building next to the florist shop to collapse and trap several of Hugh's customers and co-workers inside. The situation was desperate, as the shop would be burned to the ground at any moment.

Acting quickly, Hugh located the gas main, shutting it down. Next, Hugh noticed a water storage tank nearby, and opened a release valve that suffocated the fire before it reached his beloved shop.

With the fire out, and the florist shop saved along with those trapped inside, Hugh was a hero. The town presented him with a plaque in honor of his courageous deeds. On this plaque was a detailed etching of a bear, and Hugh was touched because he loved bears. But it was the words etched beneath that truly touched him.

"Only Hugh could prevent florist fires."

Backstory: A small group of squirrels has been stealing our bird seed. We've tried a variety of methods to get them to stop, and my wife said "we need a bb gun." I had one when I was 12! "I bet my parents still have it," I said.

Me: Do you still have my old BB gun? Or a BB gun? or a pellet gun?

Mom: No, what r u doing?

Me: Killing squirrels.

Dad: Nuts, I wish I could help.

.....I cannot be upset because one day I will do this to my own children, like my father before me.

So a couple guys and I went out to the local sandwich shop the other day, and when I get my sandwich there's some small but noticeable mold on the bread. I go back in to let them know about it and they make me another sandwich. I've got two sandwiches now and figure a bit of mold won't kill me. But it's a lot of food so I give half to my friend.

Then I say, "Hey, I just ate half my sandwich, and I've still got a whole one."

So my friend replies, "Well, I guess you can half your sandwich and eat it, too!"

Our cat at our small business killed a bird and left it in the floor. My dad grabbed it and tossed it out the front door onto the parking lot. I then asked him to toss it over the fence into our landlords unkempt field. The following text convo happened several hours later.

http://i.imgur.com/uOLsC46.jpg

It is the first documented case of a knick-knack paddy whack.