Heart and Soul Puns

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

I immediately left my Office and tried explaining myself. Sure, on the Surface I do it often, but I think it Works. It's not just about Word play, either; my Outlook on life helps me Excel. She and I have such a great Team Foundation, I Azure you. I wanted to Exchange my thoughts with her, so we could work with OneDrive. I looked her right in the Windows of her soul, to Access the deepest parts of her heart, and told her I loved her. Completely on Edge, I awaited her answer...

PowerPoint of the story is: does anyone know of a good divorce lawyer?

Dad: Because your mom put her heart and soul in it.

Every year, the team was in the state championship game, and usually won it handily. Every able lad within a few hundred miles wanted to play football for Central Catholic Fighting Knights.

Those who were familiar with the program, knew that the true heart and soul of the Knights football program was Sister Mary Margaret, an aged nun who would, in full habit, get out on the practice field and work on routes with the receivers, give pointers to the quarterbacks on their stances and releases, but most of all, love them like the second mother that she became to all of the boys in that program.

One year, on the eve of the state championship game, some evil malefactors broke into the convent and kidnapped Sister Mary Margaret. Everyone was stunned by the news, but none more so than the Knights of Central Catholic. They were devastated at the loss of their mentor.

As you might guess, the state championship game didn't go very well. For the first time in the history of the football program, the Knights were shut out. The Spartans beat them 42-0.

The next day, the headline on the local sports section read:

No Offense, Nun Taken

HI I’m Tim the turtle, yes a real turtle. And I would like to tell you the story of my best friend. I once had a friend by the name of Sam. Sam of course was a clam. A real live honest to goodness clam. He was my best buddy, but unfortunately he smoked and drank and ran around with loose women (and a few men). I was more of the goodie two shoes type. I never drank, never smoked, I didn’t even swear. But for some reason Sam and I were the best of friends. I guess you can say we were the epitome of opposites attracting. One day as we were hanging out walking along the beach Sam, after his fifth cigarette in a row, had a heart attack and died. I was heart broken. My best friend died right there in front of me and he never repented his evil ways. I was sure he would spend eternity in damnation. Sigh. Being the goodie two shoes type I was still extremely healthy well into my old age. I missed my friend terribly for many years. On his birthday I would host a party and invite his old stripper girlfriends and poker buddies around to relive stories. It was always a fun evening, but in the end left me more lonely than before. Eventually, my broken heart couldn’t stand it anymore and I too died. I was pleased to find that there was a heaven. Being an almost saint I was whisked directly past the line to the Pearly Gates to be greeted by St. Peter. A big grin erupted on his face and he came right around his desk to give me a great big hug. “Tim”, he said, “You have been such a good person back on earth that God has asked me to grant you any wish you would like before even entering heaven”. To say I was flabbergasted is an understatement. I thought for a minute, I guess God expected me to ask for more time on earth, but I knew what I really wanted to do was to visit with my old friend Sam. So I asked. Poor St. Peter didn’t know what to say. You know Sam is in Hell right? Well I knew that was a strong possibility so I wasn’t surprised. Peter excused himself for a while and went to check with the big guy himself. He was gone quite some time, but eventually he returned. Peter said my request was approved, but under a few conditions. First, I would have to carry a golden harp as a passport back into heaven. This harp could only be carried by a good soul so I couldn’t be replaced by a look alike demon. Second, I would have to return by midnight. God didn’t want me to face too much temptation. I agreed to these conditions and took the highway down to hell. (Nope n

Recently, Joe has been under the slight suspicion that his wife is cheating on him. So, one day he comes home early from work, to his crap-shoot apartment on the eighth floor, and hears her scurrying around when he enters. Almost as if there's another person in the house. When he calls out her name she hollers back that she just ran into the shower. So he investigates the bedroom and encounters a shocking surprise... a pair of hands dangling from the other side of the window sill! Those of a grown man, hanging on for dear life. Infuriated at the sight of the man who's sleeping with his wife, Joe takes the bedside lamp and starts bashing the guy's fingers until he falls eight stories onto the sidewalk. Only he's still alive, writhing and broken. So Joe hauls the refrigerator from the kitchen out the window, sending it down onto the poor sucker, killing him instantly. Now the hysteria of the moment induces a fatal heart attack and Joe himself, dies. So now, as he's up at the pearly gates, St. Peter is telling all the incoming souls that in order to gain access into heaven, they need to provide a solid account of how they died. After hearing Joe's story, St. Peter allows him in. The next man in line says that he was tanning in the sun, drunk, on the roof of his apartment building when he fell off, only to catch hold of a window sill that could have saved his life, until a crazed bastard beat his fingers and threw a refrigerator onto him. St. peter tells him that he's a shoe-in. And when he asks the next guy in line how he ended up deceased, the guy replies, "...So I'm naked in a refrigerator, right?"

Dad : "Because your mother put her heart and soul into it."

Every able lad within a few hundred miles wanted to play football for Central Catholic Fighting Knights.

Those who were familiar with the program, knew that the true heart and soul of the Knights football program was Sister Mary Margaret, an aged nun who would, in full habit, get out on the practice field and work on routes with the receivers, give pointers to the quarterbacks on their stances and releases, but most of all, love them like the second mother that she became to all of the boys in that program.

One year, on the eve of the state championship game, some evil malefactors broke into the convent and kidnapped Sister Mary Margaret. Everyone was stunned by the news, but none more so than the Knights of Central Catholic. They were devastated at the loss of their mentor.

As you might guess, the state championship game didn't go very well. For the first time in the history of the football program, the Knights were shut out. The Spartans beat them 42-0.

The next day, the headline on the local sports section read:

No Offense, Nun Taken

Son: Why is the food cold and bland today papa..?

Dad: It's because your mom puts her heart and soul into what she cooks son.