Faces Of Death Puns

http://imgur.com/5JHeTLw

They'd traded jokes, played pop music, and generally made people's lives a touch brighter as they trundled to work.

Now, though, there was silence on the air. Ernie silently reread the fax message from the Department of Defense. As licensed broadcasters they were legally obligated to alert the public, to tell them the nukes were flying and that in a few minutes all the world's troubles would be over. What, though, was the point of that? To torture people with the knowledge of something they couldn't change?

Their eyes met and a decision was reached. Bert put on their most requested song, a sugary top 40 tune while Ernie produced a bottle of bourbon from under the desk. As their producer banged on the locked studio door the colleagues toasted the end of a long career.

Bert, always the consummate professional, turned away from the window as the first explosion split the distant horizon. He straightened his tie, tucked in his shirt, and brushed his hair back. He would meet his fiery death with dignity.

He turned to Ernie and said in a quiet, resigned voice, "How do I look, Ernie?"

Ernie walked slowly over to his friend. He looked into Bert's face and saw the closeness they shared, the strength of their relationship, forged over the years. He took a deep breath and spoke quietly:

"With your eyes, Bert."

There was once a boy. He was the son of the richest man in the universe. Mark Zuckerberg, Bill Gates, he dwarfed them all. He was a multi-trillionaire. Now, it was this boy's birthday. His father asked him,

"My son. I am the richest man in the universe. I could buy you anything you want for your birthday. A store full of lego, all the video games in the world, anything. What would you like?"

His son replied.

"Oh father. It would make me the happiest boy in the world if you could get me one pink ping pong ball."

His father was rather confused by this request. Out of all the things he could've chosen, his son chose a ping pong ball. Nonetheless, he agreed and gave him a pink ping pong ball. His son was overjoyed and spoke to him.

"My father, you have made me the happiest boy in the world. May I go up to my room and play with my pink ping pong ball?"

"Okay son, go ahead."

The boy then went up to his room and played with his pink ping pong ball. When his father went in the next morning to check on him, the boy was sleeping in his bed and the pink ping pong ball was nowhere to be found.

On the boy's next birthday, his father asked him again.

"My son. I am the richest man in the universe. I could buy you anything you want for your birthday. What would you like?"

His son replied.

"Oh father. It would make me the happiest boy in the world if you could get me one box full of pink ping pong balls."

His father was again, confused by this. Still, he bought a cardboard box and filled it with ping pong balls. He gave it to his son, who said.

"My father, you have made me the happiest boy in the world. May I go up to my room and play with my pink ping pong balls?"

The father nodded, and the son went up to his room to play. The next morning when his father went to check, the boy was sleeping peacefully and there were no pink ping pong balls in sight. Just the empty cardboard box in the middle of the room.

On the boy's next birthday, his father asked him again.

"My son. I am the richest man in the universe. I could buy you anything you want for your birthday. What would you like?"

"Oh father. It would make me the happiest boy in the world if you could get me one truck full of ping pong balls."

Now, by this point, the father was extremely confused. Why did the boy want so many pink ping pong balls and where were they going? He asked.

"My son. You are the most precious thing in the world to me and I can certainly get you this, but may I ask, why do you want

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

Trevor loved tractors. And I mean, really loved tractors. Forget any obsessions or high-level interests you may have, chances are they pale in the face of Trevor’s love for tractors.

Every day Trevor would get up, in his tractor-themed bedroom in his tractor-themed house, with its tractor-themed wallpaper and tractor-themed carpets, and he would make his bed with its tractor-themed duvet and tractor-themed sheets. He would go downstairs in his tractor-themed pajamas into his tractor-themed kitchen, with its tractor-themed tiles and cupboards, and he would eat his breakfast while perusing the latest tractor-themed magazine or annual.

Trevors’s degree in Agricultural Engineering hung on his living room wall, along with a copy of his thesis, which centred around (you guessed it) tractors. The living room was decorated with all sorts of tractor-related trinkets, including die-cast models, paintings and drawings.

The hedges in Trevor’s front garden were trimmed in the shape of tractors. His lawn was vividly decorated with tractor-driving garden gnomes, and his garden furniture was constructed from various parts from vintage tractor designs.

Trevor just had one thing missing from his otherwise tractor-centric life; he had never actually owned, nor driven, a real tractor.

Not for his lack of trying, of course. Trevor had been to many tractor shows over the years, and visited many farms with friends of his, but none of the tractors he had seen had ever been quite right. Trevor was so knowledgeable about tractors that every single one he had come across had possessed some hidden trait that he wasn’t keen on. His first experience of driving a real tractor had to be perfect.

One day, Trevor was flicking through one of his favourite publications, Powertrain Quarterly, when there was a knock at the door. Trevor answered, and it was his friend and fellow tractor enthusiast, Jeff.

Trevor welcomed Jeff in, and over tea and crumpets served on tractor-themed crockery, they discussed the merits of aluminium drawbars and front-end loaders. Eventually Trevor pressed Jeff to explain the reason for his visit.

“Well” said Jeff, “As I’m sure you know the convention comes to town later”.

The convention. Trevor had been thinking of little else the past three weeks. The neighbouring town annually threw a convention for farmers, particularly farmyard machinery. There would be combine harvesters, lawnmowers, and of course, tractors.

“Yes of course” replied Trevor

"Welcome everyone to Dads Anonymous. Again my name is Bill and you will notice that we have a new member, please welcome Gary -- Can you tell us what brought you to us today?"

"Well I have a very embarrassing confession. It's even hard to get the words out."

Bill reassures him, "We are all dads here and have been meeting for decades, we've been through all the highs and lows, births and deaths, tragedies, we've heard it all. Just tell us what's on your mind son, we are here to support each other."

"Well, a couple months ago, I broke both my legs in a motorcycle accident and couldn't walk, so I let my wife use the lawnmower." He says through the sobs...

Bob, one of the other dads, starts to get pale. "...and she didn't even cut it in a crisp geometric pattern, it was just random..." Bob starts to sweat and get dry heaves. "YOU BASTARD", he screams. "HOW COULD YOU LET THAT HAPPEN." The dads rise and get ready to beat the crap out of Gary, when Bill stands between them and breaks it up.

"Guys! Guys, we all get weak sometimes and things happen outside our control. Doug, you remember when you were in recovering from Chemo and you gave your wife a hammer, and she used it to hammer a roofing nail into the drywall to hang a picture!" Doug, looks down in shame, "Yes, that was a bad day, I was so weak. She missed the stud and left a dent in the wall, and she just hung the picture over it, crooked!" There was dead silence. "Thats ok Doug, it was twenty years ago, you were young and foolish, you can let it go". Then all the dads shook hands and sat back down.

Bill starts the meeting up again. Then Gary says, "..theres one more thing, Right after I got out of the hospital, she wanted to make a special dinner for us, so I let her grill the steaks..." "OH LORD THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING!" screams Dave, another dad, his face turning red. Gary continues "...she burnt them one one side and they were dry and chewy." Now there is a bedlam, one dad immediately passes out cold, chairs are thrown, broken bottles, Gary is on the ground being kicked in the ribs. After a few tense minutes Bill managed to get the dads off of Gary. "Stop it, Dave you're killing him. Come on, you remember that time you let your wife go to the repair shop for an oil change?" Dave hung his head, and muttered yeah. "They convinced her to change the cabin filter, wiper blades and the radiator collant..." Bill kept prodding "and, aaand" ...Dave broke down, "and she bought a jug of blinker fluid!" T

A horse is sitting at home, watching MTV...

He's watching a heavy metal music video, and the guitarist plays an amazing solo. The horse says "that looks amazing, I want to do that!"

The horse goes to the phone book, looks up a music teacher and calls him. "Hi, I'd like to learn to play guitar." Says the horse.

"Sure," says the man on the phone. "Just come to your lesson and we'll get you started."

"There's just one problem," says the horse. "I'm a horse."

"Not to worry," the man says. "We have new state of the art technology to teach horses. You'll be playing like a pro in no time."

Sure enough, the horse gets really good at the guitar and he can play that amazing solo. He wants to show his friends, so he picks up the phone and calls chicken.

"Hey Chicken, come over!" he says. Chicken comes over, watches horse play the guitar and thinks it's pretty cool. Chicken watches the music video and says "hey, that drum part is pretty cool, I want to learn to play that."

Chicken goes to the phone book, looks up a music teacher and calls him. "Hi, I'd like to learn to play the drums." Says the chicken.

"Sure," says the man on the phone. "Just come to your lesson and we'll get you started."

"There's just one problem," says the chicken. "I'm a chicken."

"Not to worry," the man says. "We have new state of the art technology to teach chickens. You'll be playing like a pro in no time."

Sure enough, the chicken gets really good and begins to jam with the horse. Eventually, they think that something's missing. They watch the video again and realize they need a bass guitarist. They call their friend Cow and show them what they've been up to. Cow thinks it's pretty cool, and wants to learn how to play the bass guitar.

Cow goes to the phone book, looks up a music teacher and calls him. "Hi, I'd like to learn to play bass guitar." Says the cow.

"Sure," says the man on the phone. "Just come to your lesson and we'll get you started."

"There's just one problem," says the cow. "I'm a cow."

"Not to worry," the man says. "We have new state of the art technology to teach cows. You'll be playing like a pro in no time."

Sure enough, the cow gets really good at the bass and the animals have a nice band going.

One day, while they're practicing, a man walks by and hears them. He goes up to the animals and says "hey, you guys are pretty good! I'm from a record label, I'd like to sign you!"

The band records an album, puts out some singles and becomes a massive success.

DEAR NEIGHBOUR: Hi, Fred, this is Richard, next door. I've got a confession to make. I've been riddled with guilt for a few months & have been trying to get up the courage to tell you face-to-face. At least I'm telling you in this text, & I can't live with myself a minute longer without your knowing about this. The truth is that, when you're not around, I've been sharing your wife, day & night. In fact, probably much more than you.
I haven't been getting it at home recently, & I know that that's no excuse. The temptation was just too great. I can't live with the guilt & hope you'll accept my sincere apology & forgive me. Please suggest a fee for usage, & I'll pay you. Regards, Richard

NEIGHBOUR'S RESPONSE: Fred, feeling very angry & betrayed, grabbed his gun, went next door, & shot Richard, killing him. He went back home, shot his wife, poured himself a stiff drink & sat down on the sofa and calmed down. Fred then looked at his phone & discovered a 2nd text message from Richard.

2ND TEXT MESSAGE: Hi, Fred.
Richard here again. Sorry about the typo on my last text. I expect you figured it out & noticed that the darned Auto-Correct had changed "wi-fi" to "wife".
Technology, huh? It'll be the death of us all.

Once upon a time Quasimodo was growing old and wanted to retire. Before he could, he had to hire someone new to ring the bells of the Church of Notre Dame in his place. He placed an ad in the newspaper but only one man showed up for the interview. This man happened to have no arms. The man begged Quasimodo to give him a chance, and that despite his appearance he could indeed perform the duties of the job. Quasimodo eventually caved and gave him a chance. The next day at 1:00 sharp they met in the bell tower. The man with no arms takes a wide stance near the edge of the room and charges directly towards the bell at a dead sprint. He smacks the bell squarely with his head and it produces a wonderful sonorous ring. Pleased with the results, Quasimodo tells him that if he can continue to ring the bell for the rest of the day he has the job. 2:00 passes and the man with no arms headbuts the bell twice, at 3:00 three times, and on and on until at 12:00 he produces only 11 rings before he was so disoriented and concussed that he charges right past the bell, over the railing, and falls to his death. The next day when the police investigate the mysterious death of an unknown man with no arms Quasimodo was asked if he knew anything about the dead man. He told them " I don't know his name, but his face sure rings a bell"

The hospice nurse was asking mandatory questions of my Father-in-Law, terminal with cancer:

Nurse: Were you ever sexually abused as a child?

Father-in-Law: No, I was neglected.

Nurse: (surprised) Neglected?

Father-in-Law: No one ever loved me enough to give me any sexual abuse.

It's possible to laugh and cry at the same time. My Father-in-Law was legendary and laughed even in the face of death.

My dad's favorite joke of all time (there are many variations, and of course, even more extended versions):

These three guys went to South America to explore the rain forest. The guide was leading them through explaining the different plants and animals. After awhile they started to hear this really loud sound.

whoosh

whoosh

whoosh

The men, kind of scared, asked the guide what the noise was.

"What the hell is that noise?"

"Oh, that's just the Foo bird."

"The Foo bird?"

"Yes, it's a giant bird, and the locals believe that if it poops on you, wiping it off will cause instant death."

"That's silly."

"Well, that's what the locals say."

The noise gets louder and closer.

WHOOSH

WHOOSH

WHOOSH

The men look up in the sky and see a glimpse of the Foo bird.

"It's huge!"

Suddenly...

SPLAT

All four of the men are covered with bird shit. The guide pulls a cloth out of his pocket and wipes the shit off of his face. He drops dead.

The first of the three men says, "that's got to be a coincidence."

He wipes the shit off, and drops dead.

The second guy nervously says, "it can't be true"

He wipes it off and drops dead.

The third guy doesn't wipe it off. He was found a few days later, and went home, refusing to be cleaned.

A few years pass, his life has been destroyed due to being covered in shit. His wife left him, his friends won't come near him, he can't find a job... One day, he's in the bathroom shaving around the shit.

"It's been years, most of it has flaked off, it's probably fine to wipe it off now."

He hesitates, but eventually grabs a towel, wets it down, and takes a deep breath.

He wipes the shit off, looks up into the mirror smiling, then drops dead.

The moral of the story is:

If the Foo shits, wear it.

A while back, my mom was freaking out because it takes forever for the whole family to show up at the table. As she was ranting, this exchange happened.

mom: doggone it, we've got cold beans!

long pause

Dad: I believe the expression is "cool beans".

The next few minutes were straight out of a 90s sitcom. All three of us kids choking back laughter, my mom giving my dad the death stare, and my dad just sitting there with a "totally worth it" face. Words can not describe the rant that followed.

So in France in the 1500s there was an old tall church, and recently, the man who rings the bells grew sick and died. So the priest decided to hold interview for the job of the bell ringer. Nobody showed up but one man, he was a tall, strong looking man, but he had no arms. The priest, not wanting to turn anyone away, gave the man an interview, he seemed qualified but the priest didn't know how he would ring the bell, so he said no "Oh please father let me do it I'll prove myself, oh it'll be the best you've ever seen" the priest decided to give him a chance, they went up the winding stairs for a while till they reached the top. The man looked at the massive bell, but with excitement not fear, he was to ring the bell 5 times. He stepped back and ran full speed hitting his face to the bell, BANG. He stepped back, a bit shook up, but he shook it off and ran at the bell again, once again with his face, BANG. He did that two more times, then after the forth time He stepped back for the grand finale. He ran full speed and smashed the bell with such force it could be heard towns over, but with the force he was knocked back over the threshold and put if the tower to his death the priest ran full speed down the stairs to find a crowd around the mangled body of the of the armless man, a man walked over the priest and said "father who was this man who fell from the tower" to which the priest replied "I never caught his name but his face rings a bell".

There's a church in the country that is looking for a bell ringer for church on Sundays. A guy comes in for the job but he has no arms. The priest says "How are you going to ring the bell with no arms?"

"Come up in the bell tower with me and I'll show you."

The priest figures he'll humor him so when they get up there the backs all the way up to one side and runs full force into the side of the bell sending a "BONG" across the valley. The priest is so impressed he hires him. That Sunday the time comes and our bell ringer is all ready, backed into the corner. Runs full force and slips at the last minute falling to his death 100 feet below. A detective comes to investigate so the priest tells him the whole story. "We have to notify his next of kin, do you know his name?"

"No, but his face rings a bell."

The church now has to replace this guy so another guy comes in and coincidence of coincidences, he has no arms either. Same method of ringing the bell. Same accident. "Do you know his name?"

"No, but he's a dead ringer for the other guy."

Just got my co-worker with a doozy. They were out in the bay doing seagrass surveys when they came very close to stepping on a stingray. She was talking about the flashes of Steve Irwin's death going through her mind when I asked "you were wearing good sunscreen right?" "what?" she asked "sunscreen? Why?" "to protect you from harmful rays" I said with a smug look on my face.

She folded her arms and gave me a stern look. My boss and coworker could only shake their heads and laugh.