Air door Puns

I looked down at him and chuckled, “I think my feet are too big.”

They crept in. It was pitch black and stone quiet. They were suddenly starting to regret this dare. Stupidly, only one brought a flash light. The aggressive darkness and inky black yielded with grudging compliance but always seeming to push back. They moved cautiously onward amid the dust and cobwebs. The floor creaked. They breathed in tight, quick breaths. You could hear a pin drop.

Suddenly, there was a deep moan. "OOOOOOOOUUUUU". It seemed from below them. The house had been abandoned for years. Who or what could make such a sound? The boys looked at each other, but continued on, hearts pounding in their chests.

As they proceeded into the kitchen they encountered a swarm of flies. Buzzing and beating their necks and faces, they rushed and stumbled to the door, not stopping to see what they were truly feasting on. They slammed the door behind them. Maybe a body? But no way were they going back to find out. And again came the sound, "ooooOOOOOooooOOUUU" but louder this time, and closer.

They proceeded through the dark into the dining room. They saw a fully set dining table covered in cob webs. Dust-covered regal-looking glasses, goblets and silverware adorned the table. Spiders climbed on ivory plates. Clearly a house of privilege and set for a grand feast which never happened.

Or, perhaps, met a fatal end?

They pushed on. But again that unearthly howl.

"oooooOOOOOOOOOOOUuuuuUUUUuuUUOOOOooo".

They found the basement staircase, and from below, the sounds seemed to be emanating. Could they proceed? Would they? Did they dare? Two of the boys looked at each other, faces filled with worry.

But the third said, confidently, "We're going down there." Not wanting to seem the weaker, the other two boys steeled themselves and nodded.

The stairs creaked and groaned evily under their feet. The rickety banister shook in angry defiance. Insects and vermin scattered underneath them with every step. They were descending into hell, they knew, but none would turn back.

And the sound: "oOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUuuuuUUOOOO". Now loud enough to fill not only their heads but seeming to claw at their very souls!

Now at the basement door! The antique, crying squeak of the hinges eeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEee made the boys wince and almost cover their ears. But they had to know. WHAT is making that horrible, terrible sound?

"ooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUoooooUUUUUUUOOOOOOO"

In the center of the basement lay an unholy coffin! A twisted artistic expression of murder, decay and

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

A cowboy rides his horse up to a saloon and ties it outside. He enters the bar, sits down, and orders a whiskey.

Minutes later he hears someone ride off with his horse. He runs outside, and sure enough, his horse is gone.

He goes back in the saloon, fires his gun three times in the air, and says "At the count of ten my horse better be back here. I don't want to do what I had to do in Laredo."

A few minutes later, he sees through the door his horse being returned.

Just before he leaves the saloon, the bartender whispers to him "so what did you have to do in Laredo?"

The cowboy says "I had to walk home".

He gobbles some beer nuts, then pulls out a pistol, fires it in the air, and heads for the door.

“Hey!” shouts the bartender, but the panda yells back, “I’m a panda! Google me!”

“A tree-climbing mammal with distinct black-and-white coloring. Eats shoots and leaves.”

"Well…" he said. "It could have been anyone. Right up until we landed, we hadn't decided who would be first out the door. Then, once we touched down, Neil suggested we flip for it."

"And he won?" I said.

"Well, no…" he mumbled. "The coin was still in the air when Neil jumped down the ladder, the big jerk."

An Irishman had been drinking at a pub all night.

The bartender finally said that the bar is closing. So the Irishman stood up to leave and fell flat on his face. He tried to stand one more time; same result.

He figured he'll crawl outside and get some fresh air and maybe that will sober him up. Once outside he stood up and fell flat on his face. So he decided to crawl the 4 blocks to his home.

When he arrived at the door he stood up and again fell flat on his face.

He crawled through the door and into his bedroom. When he reached his bed he tried one more time to stand up.

This time he managed to pull himself upright, but he quickly fell right into bed and is sound asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He was awakened the next morning to his wife standing over him, shouting,

"So, you've been out drinking again!!"

"What makes you say that?" he asked, putting on an innocent look.

"The pub called -- you left your wheelchair there again."

So I'm watching a show called outrageous 911 Calls, and there was a story of an old man who was cooking bacon that ended up burning. So he opens up his back door to try and air out some of the smoke. Well, the smell starts attracting flies and of course he calls the police to report it and hope that they can send someone to handle the fly issue. The emergency operator says the police cannot do anything to help him.

So I turn to my friend who is watching along side me, and I say, "Obviously the police can't help him, he needs a swat team."

Bah dum, tss

• Accounts Payable Administrator_______________Imelda Czechs

• Accounts Payable Clerk, Moscow Office__________Dasha Chekhov

• Air-Quality Monitor _________________________Carmine Dioxide

• Caffeine Addiction Counselor__________________Bruno Moore

• Chief Legal Counsel_________________________ Hugh Louis Dewey of Dewey, Cheetham & Howe

• Cliche Monitor_____________________________Saul Wellingood

• Clothing Designer__________________________Hugh Jass

• Credit Counselor___________________________Max Stout

• Director of Purchasing_______________________Lois Bidder

• Director of Pavlovian Research________________Isabelle Ringing

• Divorce Attorney___________________________Carmine Nottyors

• Dog Trainer_______________________________Don Chase Katz

• Ebay Specialist____________________________Selma Junkoff

• Head of Security___________________________Barb Dwyer

• Global Economics Forecaster_________________Helena Handbasket

• Marine Biologist___________________________Frieda Wales

• Father-in-Law Liaison_______________________Royal Payne Diaz

• Mother-in-Law Liaison______________________Stella Payne Diaz

• Official Spokesperson_______________________Howie Vasive

• Restroom Attendants_______________________Trudy Door & Donna Hall

• Russian Chauffeur__________________________Picov Andropov

• Scout Leader______________________________Lawson D. Woods

• Shop Foreman_____________________________Luke Bizzy

• Staff Intuitionist____________________________Ivan Inkling

• Used Car Salesman_________________________Alexis Itznot

Full list can be found here: http://www.cartalk.com/content/staff-credits

I opened up the front door to check if a package had been delivered and walked away disappointed, "Darnit! I was expecting my deoderant to arrive."

Wife, in the most "whatever" tone she could muster: "Oh no! What are you going to do?"

Me: "I'm going to throw my hands in the air and say, 'This stinks!'"

Edit: Fixed phone keyboard nonsense.