It really begins at the satis-refinery.
At the shopping centre with the family, driving around the carpark looking for a space.
Me: How about that one?
The wife: Yeah, that ones satisfactory.
Me: That's where they make satises.
The joke, going over the wife's head: Whooosh!
The wife: What??
Me: Satises. At a satis factory.
Cue groaning.
A satisfactory
The satisfactory
A satisfactory.
Satisfactory
You can go to a satisfactory.
I told him it was a satisfactory.
[Driving down an unfamiliar part of I-95 highway with family (wife, 15yo son and 15yo daughter) when I had this conversation with my son:]
Son: Dad, where are we?
Me: Florida.
Son: No, Dad, more specific than that. Where are we?
Me : (reading exit sign) Wickham Road.
Son: Where's Wickham Road?
Me: (pause a bit for effect) Florida...
Son: (frustrated grunt) No, Dad, what town are we in?
Me: (reading exit sign again) Viera.
Son: How far is that from Vero? [our destination]
Me: About three letters.
[Satisfactory groans throughout car. Very pleased with self.]
The satisfactory.
My family was at the table, eating a nice meal. My mom had prepared some corn, and my brother didn't find it to be satisfactory.
"These kernels are too small!" he said.
My dad replied with "Maybe they're just lieutenants."
Satisfactory
A satisfactory....
A satisfactory.
"What do you call a factory that makes okay products?" "A satisfactory."
A satisfactory!
A satisfactory!
In the satisfactory.
A satisfactory
A satisfactory
A satisfactory.
A satisfactory.
The Satisfactory.
A satisfactory!
In the satisfactory.
A satisfactory.
In the satisfactory.
Satisfactory
A satisfactory
In the satisfactory...
A satisfactory.
The satisfactory.
A satisfactory!
A satisfactory!
