Cries And Whispers Puns

A high schooler wants to ask his best female friend to prom. Because they’ve been friends for so long, he really wants to make his “promposal” special. He talks to his friends, he talks to her friends, and spends days planning the perfect moment. Happily, she says yes!

Over the next couple of months, she sends him different styles and colors of ideas for her dress. He tells honestly that she’s always been beautiful to him, and privately to himself, he is now realizing he has strong feelings for her. He knows he needs to tell her.

The night of the prom, he’s extremely anxious. What if he says something stupid? What if she laughs at him or doesn’t return his feelings? What if she thinks he’s a terrible dancer? All of these thoughts are swirling around in his mind as both their parents fuss over them and make them pose for a million photos.

They get to the prom and he’s even more anxious. It’s dark, it’s loud, it’s crowded. They have to shout to be heard. But she grabs his hand, leads him to the dance floor, and they forget everything and everyone around them. A while later, as the songs have gotten slower, he can feel his heart pounding. He thinks it’s finally the right time. He leans down and whispers the truth in her ear, the truth about having loved her since they met in second grade. She starts to cry happy tears, saying she’s always loved him too, and they kiss. As the song ends and changes to something fast again, he asks her if she’d like to sit and have a drink. She says yes, could he please get her some punch?

He feels like he’s walking on clouds as he goes over to where the drinks and food are laid out. He wants to get back to her right away and hopes he doesn’t have to wait too long at the refreshments table.

He makes his way through the crowd, and is able to get their drinks and return to his waiting love within just a couple of minutes. Because, would you believe it?

There was no punch line.

It was a brisk Saturday morning when Gerald arrived at “The Café,” a hip coffee shop right down the street. Wearing his large, burly black coat, he stared hesitantly at his watch. Thick glasses adorned his bright blue eyes, his gaze like starlight in a clear night sky. He was waiting, intently twiddling his thumbs. After a buzz of his phone, the message from Dad popped up: “Parking now, be there in 5.”

“Dad,” he whispered under his breath, swiping the message away to once again reveal the image on his lock-screen: a hazy picture of an ultrasound.

Gerald had not spoken to his father for three years. They had had a falling out, over which he did not remember. To him it was a competition of who could wait the longest without calling or sending a text. Who could wait the longest: him without a father, or his father without a son? The idea of friction in the relationship hurt like a thorn; piercing his soul more and more everyday. Until recently, out of the blue, “Dad” popped up on his phone. The rest is history. The rest leads to that Saturday morning, at The Café.

Bang! A car door rang out not too far from where Gerald stood. Gerald saw him. His father wore his tweed jacket like a coat of armor. His strut was now weaker than before they stopped talking; a weakness evident in his cane which supported every right step. His shortly trimmed white beard juxtaposed against his uncut, curly grey hair gave him the image of a wise wizard from a fairytale. He used to be that figure to Gerald, yet instead of a nice ancient being acting like a stone to keep him grounded, Gerald had felt as though his father was a rock pulling him deeper and deeper into a sea of monotony. Holding him back from his true potential. Maybe that was why he left? He still did not know.

“Hello, son,” came the withered voice Gerald had sook for so long, yet now that it had arrived wanted to avoid. “I can’t believe it’s been so long!”

“Yeah,” said Gerald, allowing a smile to grace his face. “Too long!”

Then they hugged, signifying a change in their relationship. Gerald had hoped something could happen to bring them closer together. He did not want to go on wondering what could have been. The regret and sadness weighed him down. Before starting a new family, Gerald wanted to be reacquainted with his own.

After finding their table and sitting down, the two began to discuss life. It was like old friends catching up after a long break. Although it took some time, Gerald began to warm u

King Broderick was in trouble. He wasn't a very good king, and his brother Argyle was gathering forces to depose him and take the crown. In desperation, he captured Count Petrie, a very popular man who was one of his brother's cronies, and tortured him to learn his brother's location.

But the count wouldn't divulge the information, so the King scheduled a public execution. The crowds gathered, including the King's brother, who was there in disguise. The Count was forced to kneel, with his head on the chopping block. The headsman stood nearby, holding his axe at the ready. King Broderick loudly proclaimed "Count, you are here before me because you have aligned yourself with my brother. If you tell me where he is, I will allow you to live out your days in my dungeon. Remain silent, and you will die." The Count remained silent. King Broderick motioned to the headsman, who slowly raised his axe and swung it down...THUNK...into the wood next to the Count's head. The Count stared at the axe, visibly shaking. King Broderick loudly proclaimed "Count, that was a warning, and there will not be another. Tell me where my brother is and you will live. Remain silent, and you will die!" The Count stayed silent. King Broderick again motioned to the headsman, who raised the axe. As the headsman began the downswing, the Count cried out "Wait!!" but...THUNK...it was too late, and the Count's head fell to the ground.

At the Count's death, the King's brother leapt up and revealed himself to the crowd. Cheering Argyle, they crowded forward and overran the King's guards. Soon, it was Broderick's head on the chopping block. Argyle, the new King, waved back the headsman, knelt beside his brother and whispered into his ear "Silly brother, don't hatchet your Counts before they've chickened."