Care Not Killing Puns

and immediately crashes it, killing several people.

At the trial, the man is found guilty of multiple murders and sentenced to death.

Before he faces his sentence, he’s offered a last meal, and asks for a single banana, which is given to him.

The next day, he’s led to the electric chair. They strap him in, pull the switch, and... nothing happens.

There’s never been a failure before. But because you cannot punish a person twice for the same crime, the court is forced to let him go free.

Within a week’s time, naturally, the man, who is obsessed with trains, goes and steals another one.

He doesn’t care that he can’t drive it or that he failed catastrophically before; he is obsessed with trains and his only desire is to operate one. As before, he crashes it, and kills several people.

Again, he stands trial, and again, he is sentenced to death, showing no remorse, only delight that he got to operate the train.

His last meal request is a single banana. When he goes to the chair, the executioner pulls the switch, but nothing happens. He goes free again.

The train-obsessed maniac, once more on the loose, wastes no time in hijacking a train and crashing it.

His trial is speedy, because this has already happened twice, and he is sentenced to death.

They ask him what he’d like for his last meal. “A single banana,” he says.

“Oh, no you don’t, you son of a bitch. We’re on to you, now. We know all about your little banana trick, and you’re not escaping this time!”

The guards refuse his request, and instead serve him a standard last meal of steak, potatoes, and berry cobbler.

The next morning they strap him into the electric chair, pull the switch, and... nothing happens.

“Did you give him the banana?” demands the head guard.

“No, sir! He asked for the banana but we didn’t give it to him, we swear!” says one of the guards.

Turns out the banana had nothing to do with anything. He was just a really bad conductor.

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

One evening Jake stole Joke’s bag and hid it just at the edge of a forest nearby. Next morning he told him what he had done and to be careful not to go far into the forest since it’s riddled with bears once you go into the deep forest part and you are sure to get eaten.

Since Joke didn’t return for a long period of time, Jake went looking for him. However, he couldn’t find his friend. Jake, feeling remorse, called the police and told them what had happened.

Unfortunately, the police were no help and the case started to gain traction with the media. Reporters from all the nearby villages wanted to be the one to crack the case and find Joke.

Jake slowly spiraled into despair, not knowing what happened, thinking he killed his friend and all he wanted was some answers, buying all the local newspapers every day hoping to read something new and gain some answers.

Day after day the event slowly slipped out of his mind as time went by with no new information whatsoever. Until one day, Jake decided to put this whole thing behind him and found a therapist to help him move on.

The therapy was a huge success, he completed all but one meetings and he had just one more to go. He arrived on time as always, but the therapist’s office was locked this time. Jake checked his mobile phone and he saw a message from his therapist that he’s gonna be a few minutes late and that he should sit down in the waiting room, relax, and wait for him.

Jake, as any reasonable person, sat down in the waiting room and started waiting. It was at this moment that his phone battery ran out and he became bored, very bored, so he picked up a random newspaper from the table in front of him and then he saw it, the headline he was waiting for for so long:

Joke gone too far.