Crescendos Puns

You will be band.

It was a severe winter, and this particular night was bitterly cold. There was a loud knocking at the door which was opened to find Quasimodo shivering.

He was brought in, fed warm food and given a warm place to sleep. The next morning, at breakfast, Quasimodo very diffidently approached the Archbishop to thank him for sheltering him.

"Your Grace," he added, "please give me some work to do so I can earn my keep. I am very good at bell ringing."

"My son," replied the Archbishop, "that is indeed fortuitous timing, as our campanologist is leaving on a pilgrimage to Lourdes. I am wondering, though, with your gnarled hands, if you will not have some difficulty ringing the bells."

"Your Grace, I do not use my hands," Quasimodo explained. "Allow me to demonstrate."

They all went to the belfry, shooed away the bats, and Quasimodo started to ring the bells - with his head.

Everyone was impressed and he got the job. He would ring the bells every day at the appointed time.

For Christmas, he decided to play a symphony as a way to thank everyone. He played so beautifully that everyone was moved to tears.

For the grand finale, he decided to end with a crescendo, so as the last chimes were ringing out on the other nine bells, he drew back to the end of the belfry, ran to the tenth bell and took a flying leap at the bell.

And missed.

He couldn't stop himself, and flew straight out of the belfry to go splat on the pavement below, dead.

People gathered, the gendarmes were summoned, and they started asking if anyone knew who this poor fellow was.

Someone around spoke up, "I don't know his name, but his face rings a bell."

(to be continued)

(Please read part one first)

News of Quasimodo's death reached his village, and his brother Demimodo journeyed to Paris to pay his respects to his brother.

After visiting the grave, he went to the cathedral to express his gratitude to the Archbishop and his staff for looking after his brother in life and in death.

In conversation, the Archbishop learned that despite having the same gnarled hands as his brother, Demimodo also was an experienced bell ringer, having performed this service at his village church, using the same technique.

Demimodo was hired to replace his brother and started to ring the bells morning, noon and night. Some said he rang them better than his brother.

Come Easter time, and Demimodo decided to offer a grand symphony before the bells went quiet on Maundy Thursday.

On the Wednesday night, Demimodo went into orchestral mode and played superbly. As his brother did, he too wanted to end on a crescendo, and like his brother, he too took a flying leap at the last bell.

And missed.

Once again, the public were asked by the gendarmes if anyone knew who this poor soul was. The same person who spoke of Quasimodo replied, "I don't know his name, but he was a dead ringer for his brother."

Because piano is their forte

Violin-ce

A night crescendo