Quiet Night Thought Puns

Just then a blind man appeared on a nearby path. The man asked the farmer what he was doing, and the farmer told him about his problem. The farmer told the man how he had tried everything, from singing to the trees, to shaking them, to blowing on them. The blind man thought for a minute and then instructed the farmer to try listening to the trees, because their song was not being heard. The farmer was skeptical, but figured he may as well try. He put his ear up to one of the small apples, and could barely hear the faintest song playing. He turned to ask the blind man how to hear it better but the man had disappeared.

Later that day the man told his wife, Andrea, all about what had happened. The wife was skeptical as well, but she told her husband to talk to their friend Jim the beet farmer, because he always had a healthy crop. The farmer obliged his wife and went and told Jim about his experience. Jim smiled, and he motioned for the farmer to come with him. The two walked to the middle of a field full of red beets. In the very center they found two golden beets. Jim told his friend to take the golden beets, and bury them into the soil near his orchard.

Night was approaching, but the farmer agreed to do what he was told. He thanked his friend and took the two beets to the center of his orchard, while his wife Andrea looked on. As he pushed them into the ground he started to hear the song of the trees. The song was a little louder, but still very quiet.

The farmer dug up the beets and began moving them to other spots. He soon noticed that as he buried them closer to his wife, the louder the song became and the apples actually started growing. The farmer, excited by his discover, ran over to his wife and stuck the beets into the soil at her feet. The apple orchard sung loudly and came to life with new growth. The farmer had the best crop he had ever had that year.

Moral of the story: If you want to listen to apple music, try plugging in your beets by ‘Dre.

They snuck from their beds in the middle of the night and met in the gloomy darkness in front of the house, shivering in the cold.

The first boy said in a loud whisper, "You guys bring anything?" He slid a gun out of his pocket. The second boy nodded and revealed a knife. The third boy pulled out a flashlight.

"You didn't bring a weapon?" the first boy asked. He shrugged and replied, "Sorry". And as if to prove it, he turned his pockets out to show nothing but stray lint and a pack of cough drops.

They crept in. The door shut behind them. It was pitch black and stone quiet. They were suddenly starting to regret this dare. The flash light clicked on. 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 on the other side, not stopping to see what they were truly feasting on. They slammed the door behind them. Maybe a dead 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 found a fully set, ornate dining table covered in cob webs. Dust-covered regal goblets, pitchers and silverware adorned the table. Spiders crept over 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 hel

So this needs a little backstory.

About 10 years ago my wife and I went to see the comedian Jim Gaffigan in Santa Rosa, CA where we live. About 2/3 the way through his set, he did an old Steve Martin bit. I leaned over to my wife and said quietly (or so I thought,) "Steve Martin called, he wants his bit back."

Apparently Mr. Gaffigan heard me, because he did the last 1/3 of his set staring at his shoes.

Flash forward to last night. We were at a public event with TONS of people, loud music, dancing, whatever. Some guy walked by wearing an outrageously funny outfit, and I leaned very close to my wife's ear to make a comment about it. She mildly upset and said, "Don't do a Jim Gaffigan," she said.

I blinked and leaned in again and said, clearly: "You mean...Don't make a Jim Gaffe Again?"