General Radio Puns

Bert and Ernie worked together as daytime radio hosts for over twenty years. They'd traded jokes, played pop music and generally made peoples lives a touch brighter as they trundled to their workplace.

Now though, there was a silence on the air. Ernie silently reread the fax from civil defense. As licensed broadcasters, they were legally obligated to alert the public, to tell them that several nuclear missile launches had occured, and that in a few minutes all the world's troubles would be over. But what was the point in that? To torture people with the knowledge of something they couldn't change?

Ernie looked up at Bert. Their eyes met and a decision was reached. Bert put on their most requested song, a sugary top 40 tune, while Ernie produced a bottle of bourbon from under the desk. As their producer banged on the locked studio coor, the colleagues toasted the end of a long career.

Bert. always the consummate professional, turned away as the first explosion split the horizon. He straightened his tie, tucked in his shirt and brushed his hair back. He would meat his fiery death with dignity.

He turned to Ernie and said in a quiet, resigned voice, "How do I look, Ernie?"

Ernie walked slowly over to his friend. He hugged his companion, released him and studied Bert's face. He saw the closeness they shared, all the long years tying them together, and the strength of their relationship. He took a deep breath, with tears streaming down his cheeks. He spoke in a quiet, broken tone:

"With your eyes, Bert."

She wasn’t unusual, nor was the travel bag she carried, except for one thing. She would approach people who were sitting on the beach, glance around, then speak to them.

Generally, the people would respond negatively and she would wander off, but occasionally someone would nod and there would be a quick exchange of money for something she carried in her bag.

The couple assumed she was selling drugs and debated calling the cops, but since they didn’t know for sure they just continued to watch her.

After a couple of weeks the wife asked, “Honey, have you ever noticed that she only goes up to people with boom boxes and other electronic devices?”

He hadn’t and said so. Then she said, “Tomorrow I want you to get a towel and our big radio and go lie out on the beach. Then we can find out what she’s really doing.”

Well, the plan went off without a hitch, and the wife was almost hopping up and down with anticipation when she saw the girl talk to her husband and then leave. The man walked up the beach and met his wife at the road. “Well, is she selling drugs?” she asked excitedly.”

“No, she’s not.” he said, enjoying this probably more than he should have.

“Well, what is it, then?” his wife fairly shrieked.

The man grinned and said. “Her name is Sally and she’s selling batteries.”

“Batteries?” cried the wife.

“Yes,” he replied. “She sells C cells by the Seashore.”