Dark One Puns

Then it dawned on me.

Bless him - He meant well

Cashier told me: "It's $4.05". I looked at my watch and said, "No, it's 8:45."

My mother-in-law was in the hospital for a week with spinal meningitis (she's fine now, fully recovered). During this hospitalization, the family cat went missing. While my wife and her father were at the hospital taking care of her mum and helping her get tons of tests done every day, one of my evening responsibilities was to go looking for the dang cat.

One evening towards the end of the week, I was updating them on the cat hunt situation, to which her father replied, "I just don't understand it. We've just been through about 6 CAT scans this week and we still can't find the bloody cat!"

...Groans ensued...

With a confused but serious look the officer replied "The (city-name) Police Department doesn't have any balls sir". After my brief chuckle he used the force to arrest me. Not the light force or the dark force. He used excessive force. The light sabers are black and made of wood but they really hurt. The force was strong with that one.

“Oh I think I’ll call it a day” God replies.

• "Can't talk, busy camping," replied Tom, intent.
• "The French don't deserve our thanks," said Tom mercilessly.
• "Haven't you heard me singing in church?" Tom inquired.
• "I'll win this tennis game if I get one more point, " Tom deduced.
• "I didn't eat my T-bone tonight," said Tom mistakenly.
• "So you're asking about my mink coat," Tom inferred.
• "I'm wearing a watch around my wrist," said Tom with abandon.
• "I'm the most important salmon vendor," said Tom selfishly.
• "I was correct the first three times, and I am correct now," said Tom forthrightly.
• "Castration is reversible," Tom remembered.
• "I brought the dessert," said Tom piously.
• "I command my own private army," said Tom maliciously.
• "I'll order the same meat as last time," Tom revealed.
• "I've never swum in Egypt's longest river," said Tom in denial.
• "Et tu?" asked Tom brutally.
• "That's women for you," said Tom dismissively.
• "I'll have a bowl of Chinese soup," said Tom wantonly.
• "I eat everything," said Tom in jest.
• "I gave you your freedom, and I can take it away," said Tom deliberately.
• "Maybe if I rub this lamp something good will happen," said Tom ingeniously.
• "I'm never taking an Uber again," Tom derided.
• "That dog is a mongrel," Tom muttered.
• "It's too bad Babe isn't on our team," said Tom ruthlessly.
• "Maybe I should stop using worms to catch fish... or maybe not," Tom debated.
• "Hemingway is my favorite author," said Tom earnestly.
• "This drumming is too easy," said Tom without missing a beat.
• "This is a frozen dessert,” I screamed.
• "Now I have TWO duck feathers", Tom doubled down.
• "She would never answer her phone the first time, you always had to hang up once," Tom recalled.
• "Two plus five is seven,” Tom added.
• "I only have Diamonds, Clubs and Spades," said Tom heartlessly.
• "It's okay, the PlayStation still works," Tom consoled.
• "Capital punishment is mostly used on the lower classes," said Tom with poor execution.
• "Where are all of my old board games?" asked Tom cluelessly.
• "I might be acquitted," said Tom without conviction.
• "I've never dyed my hair red, but I'll try it," said Tom gingerly.
• "Ugh! I need to shave again," Tom bristled.
• "Whale hunting makes me so sad," Tom blubbered.
• "I'll quit smoking marijuana right now!" said Tom bluntly.
• "I like hot dogs more than hamburgers," said Tom frankly.
• "I signed it twice," Tom remarked.
• "I received a letter to take my car in for repair," Tom recalled.
• "I hate pale ale," sai

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

Because you can't C in the dark!

(My little brother told me this one and was really proud of himself lol)

I am a software engineer, and our project manager asked why she was always the only one with her camera on in meetings. I said well I am in a dark and messy room so I would rather not share that state. She queried why my room was dark, and I said "because bugs are attracted to light"

One cold winter's morning he was walking along a country road, when he heard a cry for help from a nearby lake.

He turned to see a little girl struggling in the broken ice in the middle of the lake. She'd been skating and had fallen into the icy water. Without a moment's hesitation the tramp ran onto the ice and slipped and slided over to the little girl. He managed to pull her out without breaking the ice further and he carried her back to the road.

He took off his coat and wrapped the little girl in it and began looking for a car to flag down. A few moments later a huge chauffeur-driven limo pulled up, and who stepped out but the little girl's father - the mayor of the nearby town and a multi-millionaire.

"How can I ever thank you sir?" says the father after putting his daughterinto the warmth of the limo.

"Just name your price - I'm a wealthy man."

"Ahem, well ..." stammered the tramp "...eh I'm a little short of cash, perhaps you could help me out"

"Certainly" says the girl's father and he pulls out his wallet.

"Oh dear" says the father, "I don't carry much cash with me, I only have ten dollars - but come home with me and I'll get more from the safe"

"No! No!" says the tramp, "Why ten dollars is more money than I've seen in my whole life - that will be plenty".

"Well, if you insist" says the father - "now what will you do with your money?"

"Oh that's easy" says the tramp "I've not had a rest in 20 years. I think I'll buy myself a holiday"

"Well good luck" says the father, and he gets into the car and signals his chauffeur to drive home.

"Ten Dollars" thinks the tramp, "I'm rich! I'm rich!", and off he goes to the town, to buy himself a holiday.

He finds a travel agent, walks in - much to the disgust of the staff - and goes up to the desk.

"I'll have one holiday please!"

"Ahem, which holiday would sir like" asked the girl at the desk, forcing a smile.

"Oh, any holiday I don't mind" replied the tramp.

"Well how much money does sir have to spend on sir's holiday?"

"Oh lots - anything up to ten dollars"

"TEN DOLLARS!! You'll never get a holiday for ten dollars" says the girl incredulously.

"Oh dear" said the tramp, "and I was so looking forward to a holiday - I'll probably never get another chance - isn't there anything you can do?"

"Well I don't think so sir, but hold on and I'll check"

The girl goes into the back of the shop, and searches in the deepest, dustiest filing drawers she can find. There - to her amazement -

A small business owner walks into a bar and orders a beer. "How's business?" the bartender asks. "Horrible. We had quite a fiasco this week. I had a shipment come in containing 100 high-quality T-shirts that featured a glow-in-the-dark design of a 100 dollar bill on the front. They looked really cool in the catalog when we ordered them, but we didn't sell a single one all week," the business owner complains. "I guess it's true. Money doesn't glow on T's. "

His best friend, Roy, was known around town for having an adventurous streak that a small town just couldn't satisfy. Roy yearned to travel the world, to rub shoulders with the well-to-do, and to squeeze every drop of excitement he could out of life. While most young folk in town, my grandpa included, were resigned to their lot, Roy was driven by his dream. He worked incredibly hard, taking every hired-hand and handy-man job he could find. He would walk five miles each way to clean a gutter if there was a nickel to be made. His hometown was always spotless, because Roy would pick up every glass bottle he saw to get the deposit back, and every can he found would get turned in for recycling.

The years stretched on. Grandpa settled down with his high school sweetheart in a one-room cottage and had my dad, and not much else. Roy kept hurrying from one job to the next, never spending a dime on a date. Everyone would just roll their eyes and quietly gossip about how poor Roy's obsession was robbing him of a real life.

One day, Roy showed up at Grandpa's house, all decked out in a brand new khaki safari kit, complete with helmet, binoculars, and elephant gun, and announced that he had finally saved up enough for passage to Africa to go big game hunting. He was especially proud of the fine leather boots he was sporting. "Indestructable" he called them, totally impenetrable to water, wind, and snow. No trench-foot for him while he tracked rhinos on the savannah!

Grandpa congratulated Roy on his achievement and wished him bon voyage. Over the next three months, the town felt Roy's absence. Litter lay where it fell, gutters overflowed in heavy rain, small-time farmers rose that bit earlier and bedded that bit later to cover the work Roy used to help with. Of course, the gossipers just turned their chat from how Roy needed a dose of reality to how thoughtless it was of him to just up and leave. Most folks were convinced Roy was gone for good. After all, how could he come back from such a high-falutin' adventure to his tiny, no-account hometown?

But return Roy did, and everyone crowded around at the bar to hear his account of his safari. To their surprise, Roy told them that, for all the time he had been away, he only bagged one trophy that was currently on a slow boat back. It turned out, once Roy got a close-up look at the elephants, rhinos, giraffes, gazelles, and all the fine animals of the African savannah, he lost all heart for hunting. He just couldn't imagi

After his baseball game, we picked up some take-out food for the family. Driving home and now dark, he and I see three people walking along the shoulder of our street, all wearing dark clothes. I almost hit one of them. I say, shaking my head, "Look at these idiots, wearing dark clothes at night...someone's gonna get run over."

He replies, from the back seat, "Yeah...they're not too bright."

That's only because no one has seen his dark side.

You remember the story of Jack and the Beanstock? Imagine if Jack had red hair.

Hints:

Fee-fi-fo-fum,
I smell the blood of an Englishman,
Be he alive, or be he dead
I'll grind his bones to make my bread.

This one is a bit dark.

Ok, too subtle perhaps:

>!Outside of the U.S., red heads are generally called "gingers". Thus, redhead Jack is a ginger, and if the giant makes his bread from Jack's bones, he has made bread out of a ginger, which makes it...!<

People ask me sometimes, they say ( because they are wise to seek my counsel on this matter), "how is it that Norsemen came to be known as "Norwegians"?"

You see, back in days of Yore, when Norsemen first got it in their heads that the Brits and the Picts were a puny lot, ripe for the harvest so to speak, they first scouted the area by pretending to be tourists. They found themselves a nice sidewalk cafe operated by a couple limey weasels, and set their boots heavily on the outdoor table and ordered up a corned beast suitable to their needs. And ale. They needed some ale. You can't smash a horn down and demand "more ale, wench!" In a loud, commanding voice if you haven't had any in the first place.

The waitress was a slip of a lass, dark-complected, demure and quiet to match her appearance. She stammered out that, being a Green Initiative business, Ale was not only unavailable but philosophically out of place. But they had some lovely tea with a hint of lavender...

Thorrfin Skullsplitter leaned forward at this news, and bellowed, "we are not teetotalers!", pounding his fist on the iron-lace table.

Lenny Mcgreasel, one of the cafe's two owners, heard the commotion and injected his condescending, servile whine to the conversation, "is there anything we can bring the large gentlemen from our menu?", gesticulating to the hand-crafted hemp/flaxseed menu depicting what could only be described as a garden, rather than a list of things to eat.

Thorrfin's mate, Snorri Log-Bender, immediately ordered, as if he'd been thinking about this moment for some time, "what I'd like is to have some bacon salad"

Thorrfin was still muttering in his beard over not being a teetotaler. " I'm sorry sir, we only serve as food that which has grown fresh from the garden"' the waitress chirped. That was the last straw. With a shove of his boot, and a full dose of disgust, the table flew backwards.

"C'mon, Snorri", he said in disgust, and he stood, once again emoting, "we are not teetotalers"

Just then another small-faced waitress popped around the corner carrying tofu laced with kale and and whole-grain brown rice. Snorri saw his chance, and with a face of disgust he emoted,

"Nor Vegans"

And with that they bid their their host a hostile farewell, only to return two weekends later with a fully armed force of Vikings,- and established what would become the preeminent fast food of a millennia, fish and chips, served only with the darkest stout.

To hear the Engl

Was trying to figure out how to use her new iPhone to shoot photos at night using night mode. She gave me the phone and said, here figure this out. I took the phone and pushed one button, and voila, night mode. She looks at me at this point and says, how did you know that would work? My reply...

I don’t know, I was just taking a shot in the dark.

Mic drop.

A man swings his club and fails to hit the ball.

Man: God damnit, I missed.

A nun shakes her head in disapproval. The man swings again and misses yet again

Man: Damnit, I missed again!

Nun: Sir, if you keep on swearing like that, you're gonna go to hell.

The man then laughs and dismisses the nun's comment. He makes one more attempt at hitting the ball, but to no avail.

Man: God fucking damnit!

The sky then goes dark, a lightning bolt strikes the nun, and you can hear a thundery voice say, "God damnit, I missed."

God said, “I think I’m going to call it a day.”

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