Gesturing Puns

All I've got is a phonograph.

and here are the unstables.

He's relaxing in a comfy chair, reading the newspaper, until he hears a quiet voice call out to him:

"Nice suit."

The man looks up and around for the source of the comment, but to no avail. There's no one else in the lounge except for an attendant, busily working away on the other side of the room.

Figuring he must've been hearing things, the man resumes reading the newspaper, until a few minutes later when the same voice says to him:

"That's a lovely watch."

Again, the bewildered man searches for the source of the voice, but there is absolutely no one who could have possibly said it to him. Exasperated, he gives up and goes back to reading his paper. But once more, the voice speaks to him:

"Great haircut."

The man whips his head up, gets to his feet and looks around but there is nobody there. Desperate, he calls for the attendant to come over. He asks:

"Excuse me, but could you hear that voice talking before? I can't see anyone else but me and you here."

"No, I'm afraid I haven't heard anything of the sort." replies the attendant, shaking his head.

"It keeps on saying how much it likes my clothes, my watch - even my haircut!" states the man, growing frustrated.

A beam of realisation dawns across the attendant's face. Gesturing towards a bowl of provided nuts resting on the table, the attendant chimes:

"Oh! That must be the peanuts! They're complimentary."

The man stands up and speaks "Plethora." and steps back down.

"Thank you..." says the Widow, "that really means a lot."

EDIT The responses here are incredible! 👌

Maybe, they just want each other to shut the fcuk up.

The sergeant hands him a stick and gestures to the training field.

"You'll have to use this, soldier. If you need to shoot someone, just aim your stick at them and shout 'Bangity bang-bang'. If someone gets too close to you, poke them in the gut with it as though it was a bayonette and shout 'Stabbity stab-stab'. Now get moving."

The soldier thinks this is pretty ridiculous, but to his surprise, when he aims his stick at a fellow trainee across the field and shouts "Bangity bang-bang!" the other soldier goes down in a theatrical display. Then, another trainee tries to run past him, so he pokes the guy in the ribs and shouts "Stabbity stab-stab!" and he too goes down, pretending to be dead.

So, the soldier starts running through the mock-battlefield, shouting "Bangity bang-bang" and occasionally "Stabbity-stab-stab", until eventually he realizes he's the last man standing.

He's feeling pretty proud of himself until another soldier rounds a corner and starts walking toward him. Slowly. Stiffly. Menacingly.

The soldier takes aim with his stick and shouts, "Bangity-bang-bang!"

But the other soldier doesn't go down this time. He keeps approaching, arms stiff at his sides, boots stomping aggressively into the ground.

The soldier begins to sweat. He clears his throat, adjusts grip on his stick and hollers, "Bangity bang-bang!"

But nothing happens. The other soldier keeps marching toward him.

Now the soldier panics. He pretends to reload his stick and desperately cries out, "Bangity bang-bang! Bangity bang-bang! Stabbity stab-stab!"

But to his dismay, nothing works.

Finally, the other soldier reaches him, kicks him in the shin and knocks him onto the ground.

He stands over the fallen soldier and says:

"Tankity tank-tank."

I haven't touched it in years.

So there was a man who considered himself the greatest fighter in the world. Every time he got in a fight growing up, he'd win, and it would never even be close. Eventually he ran out of people in town to fight, and he decided that he'd travel the world, looking for all the best fighters, and beat them in combat.

He travels to Japan, China, India, Russia, France, Ireland, going all about the world, fighting everyone who thinks they're the best fighters in the world- and beats them easily. There's no real sense of competition, he just defeats every challenger in humiliating fashion.

But travelling the world looking for the best fighters takes a lot of time, and there's always another person thinking that they're the best fighter in the world, so he issues a challenge to anyone in the world who thinks that they're the best fighter to come to his house and fight.

The day arrives, and HUNDREDS of people have shown up. All of the best practitioners of all the world's martial arts have shown up. There's a group of judoka from Japan, Israeli Krav Maga artists stretching out on one side of the room, the Muay Thai artists are doing light striking to warm up- everyone seems represented here. The guy who started all this says "OK, there are a lot of you here, and the only way we'll be able to finish this today is if we group you all up by discipline, you all form a line, and I'll beat each of you in turn."

So he starts with the wrestlers, who line up one at a time. One at a time they come at him, and none of them last longer than a minute before having their shoulders pinned to the ground. Not only do they all get beaten, but it seems like this guy is actually winning his fights faster as the day goes on! Some of the fighters from the other disciplines watch this display, and they start leaving.

The guy looks at his watch, and realizes that three hours have gone by in fighting the wrestlers. So he gestures to the Muay Thai artists and says "I'll now fight you, but I'll fight you four at a time!" The Muay Thai fighters figure they can knock this guy out quickly, then settle the honor of who the best fighter is amongst themselves, so they line up four by four, rush in, and in a flurry of elbows and knees, they all end up knocked out on the ground. Four by four the Muay Thai fighters rush in, only for this guy to remain standing after all of them. This is intimidating to the other fighters who are watching, and more people start heading home.

H

He wanted to make a cymbalic gesture.

We were driving around town and I was pointing out to him all the happening spots when he casually said, "looks pretty dead in here."

I look over to see him gesturing towards the local graveyard...

Recently, my brother came a-knocking upon my chamber door. At first, I ignored his knockings, as I was otherwise indisposed, but eventually I relented, arose from my recumbent pose upon my comparatively humble pallet, and went to my door, the lintel of which is obviously forsaken of and unornamented by a bust of Pallas, yet I am not Poe's somewhat well-to-do narrator, so....I digress. Let me just finally arrive at the whole point and punchline of this particular and peculiar yet picayune semi-autobiographical story: So, I flung wide open the door, but neither so suddenly nor violently as to so take my brother off his guard that said flinging door struck him full in the face, but with still such a show of force that he well knew that he had awakened to full furiousness the rather sporadically beastly person who dwelt behind it. At any rate, startled by my unoccluding of the door or not, the first thing out of his mouth was a query concerning my collection of tools, which is even humbler than my pallet. In short, he inquired of me as to whether or not I possessed a hammer, to which inquiry I replied only that I used to, and then made a brief, dumb show of gesturally looking for it. When my silly and simple search proved fruitless, I then said, upon seeing a stack of canned food that sat upon the splintered shelf in the marred and ancient armoire that formerly belonged to our deceased father, "What if you were to use this can? Or, if you like, this CANMER"? (And thus concludes my hardly lengthy nor revelatory tale. Lol)

It was a grand father gesture.

Not having much knowledge of the animals, he asks the owner to show him around and tell him about different breeds. "Sure, let's go," says the owner, and brings him over to the paddocks.

"So a lot depends on what you want the animal for," he says, and gestures to a powerful stallion running laps. "Over there, you've got your Type A horse: strong, fast, and a little unpredictable, but great if you want to get somewhere in a hurry."

"I think that'd be a little much for me," the man says, and the owner nods, then brings him over to see a mare quietly chomping at some hay in the shade. "This is a Type B horse - tends to be quiet and they're good companions, but not much for doing work."

The man pauses to think about what he wants the animal for, then looks over at a nearby pond and sees a horse swimming and diving over and over again. "What the heck is that one doing?" he asks the owner. "Oh, him? That's a C horse."

         One says, “We’re saved! We can ask him for directions!” His friend, however, had a somber expression on his face.
          “Doesn’t something seem off to you about this man?” he replies, gesturing to the figure lying prostrate on the road before them.
          “What do you mean?” said the first, confusion splayed across his features.
          “I mean we can’t trust a thing he says. He’s a pathological lier.”

In addition to his handiwork he has a really cool hidden talent. It’s almost like a superpower. With just the simplest gesture he can turn anything scalding hot. We call it the Mike Rowe wave.

It was a nice jester.

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

It was a sweet gesture, but I already reddit.

This old bloke I know just passed away. He was well known in the community for his wood turning - bowls, furniture - you name it, he did it. So for the funeral, they decided to bury his prized lathe right there next to him.

It's a nice gesture - but I know he'd be turning in his grave if he knew.

(noun) A hand gesture used by a midget as a greeting.

Cool, that midget over there just gave me a microwave!

^{Source: ^Bullwade ^Anguish ^Dictionary}

The other day my son, who is almost three, walks into the kitchen where I was cooking dinner. He looked up at the cabinet that has the cookies and such and pointed like he wanted something. I stoop down to pick him up and ask:

Me: "What's up, dude?" Son: (gesturing upwards like a Roman senator) "The ceiling!"

yep, yep it is kid.

A tour bus driver is driving with a bus load of seniors down a highway, when he is tapped on his shoulder by a little old lady. She offers him a handful of peanuts,which he gratefully munches up.

After about 15 minutes, she taps him on his shoulder again and she hands him another handful of peanuts.

She repeats this gesture about five more times.

When she is about to hand him another batch again he asks the little old lady, 'Why don't you eat the peanuts yourself?'. 'We can't chew them because we've no teeth', she replied.

The puzzled driver asks, 'Why do you buy them then?' The old lady replied, 'We just love the chocolate around them.'

…when we hit the meat and dairy section he threw both arms out wide, gesturing to the tubed meat, and asked me, "you ever sausage a place?!"

It was a Romantic gesture

So, this just happened last night. My son (11 years old, and a true lover of dad jokes) is not presently speaking to me.

After i just finished cutting an avocado in two... Me: Shall we "halve" some avocado with dinner tonight? Huh? Huh? (Dramatically pointing to the cut produce in Vanna White style.) Son: (Unimpressed). I might take a little. Me: You might? I say you "halve two!" (Again gesturing dramatically to the two halves.) Son: groan That was TERRIBLE... But you score extra points for a double pun. Me: Av-a-cad-o million more where those came from. Mic Drop

It was a knife gesture but rather straight to the point

Was paying for our cake at a Cafe and the cashier asked "are you paying for everything?" I gestured at everyone else in the Cafe and said "they can pay for their own meals, I'll just pay for ours thanks"

I'm a manager at a hotel and I got stuck covering the desk for an employee tonight. A 50ish-year-old couple came in with their teenage son and said, "reservation for Knight..."

"Yeah, here we go...A room with 2 queen beds for one night..." I replied, "well...for three knights, I guess..." and I gestured toward them.

The teenager immediately rolled his eyes, the dad BUSTED out laughing and the mom chuckled and said, "normally, he makes those jokes!"

The husband then says, "Yeah I had one all ready to go!"

I was proud that I beat them to the punch. It was a good day.

It is a Tolkien gesture.

BOOM! (followed by exploding rock hand gesture)

He thought it was a Tolkien gesture.

Today as I was locking my bike to the bike rack, I saw another biker approaching the bike rack at a high speed. Instead of using his brakes to slow down he was using his shoes to slow down. It looked scary at first because it looked like he was going to crash into the rack. When he finally stopped, we had this exchange:

Me: "Do you not have brakes, or something?"

Him: "No, and I haven't used brakes in months now"

Me: "Why? Did they ... break?" followed by this gesture (☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞

He didn't even look at me and just walked away.

Even though we've been out of college for years, my fraternity pledge son and I still get together every week to play some pool. This week, we were discussing werewolves and where they fit in the mythical creature hierarchy.

"Werewolves are obviously the best," he says.

"That makes sense you'd like them," I reply. "You're like halfway one already."

"Oh, is it because of this?" he asks, gesturing toward his hair, his beard, his hairy chest.

"No, cause you're a human when the moon's not full."

I'm in the back seat of my dad's car, as we're driving down a rather busy street of a populated city. My dad taps me on the shoulder and gestures out the window with an air of disgust.

Dad: "I can't believe all the political advertising they have out here."

I look around for quite some time, expecting to spot a house covered with election signs or political party banners. All that I see are a series of pylons with road signs intermittently placed in between them.

The signs say: "Keep left."

My dad snickers with pride and drives off.

For a little bit of background information, my dad suffers from multiple system atrophy and got a high fever, which turned out to be from a bad urinal tract infection. He has been at the hospital for almost 2 weeks now, and it is really hard on our family, but he is doing his best to get better and throws this small dad joke to lighten me and my brothers day.

A Speech Therapist comes every day to help him focus on his muscles in his face to help him swallow and speak clearer with simple gestures of noises and deep breathing. As she was done with his exercises, she said to him "Can you say goodbye, have a nice day! in a long sentence?" (As in one breath with no pauses). My dad then takes a look at me and my brother and says in his slurred voice "goodbye... have a nice day... in a long sentence".

The Speech Therapist just smiled and shook her head while we facepalmed...

Thumbs up Dad, I know you will come home soon!

...a wagon train was heading out west. Inside one of the wagons, a man lay on his deathbed with friends and family gathered 'round. He gestured to his best friend, who leaned down to hear what the dying man had to say.

"My friend," he whispered, "I'm not gonna make it, but I wanna be remembered. When you get to where you're going, I want you to name a town after me."

"You betcha," his friend says. "Anything for you, Al."

Then the man gestures to his best friend's son, who likewise leans down to hear the dying man's last words.

"Boy, make sure your old man keeps his promise to name a town after me."

The boy answers, "Yes, Sir, Mr. Buquerque."

While perusing a large collection of jewelry at the store -

Clerk - "Can I help you?"

Dad - "I wan't to get my wife of 12 years something nice." Gestures towards the wide banded necklaces in the case

Clerk - "Do you want a choker?"

Dad - Pauses, smiles and says "Only when she's acting up."

While in the car, I played some music a friend of mine has produced. I made a gesture towards the speakers and said: "That's name of my friend."

Without batting an eye, he replied: "No, that's a Toyota.", and chuckled.

In class today, my professor asked for someone to "flip off the lights" so we could start the movies. I was on the other side of the room from the light-switch but I did what I could...

I flashed a particular hand gesture toward the lights.

Someone: Ooh I think I've eaten something that disagrees with me..

Dad:Gestures with his hand in front of their stomach, symbolizing their stomach talking "No you haven't!!"

The group of Filipino boys had suits on with super skinny neckties

Me: Those are little ties

Husband: They aren't Thai, they're Filipino (does the point-point-point hand gesture)

A soldier shows up for military training, but realizes he forgot to bring his gun.

The sergeant hands him a stick and gestures to the training field.

“You’ll have to use this, soldier. If you need to shoot someone, just aim your stick at them and shout ‘Bangity bang-bang’. If someone gets too close to you, poke them in the gut with it as though it was a bayonet and shout ‘Stabbity stab-stab’. Now get moving.”

The soldier thinks this is pretty ridiculous, but to his surprise, when he aims his stick at a fellow trainee across the field and shouts “Bangity bang-bang!” the other soldier goes down in a theatrical display. Then, another trainee tries to run past him, so he pokes the guy in the ribs and shouts “Stabbity stab-stab!” and he too goes down, pretending to be dead.

So, the soldier starts running through the mock-battlefield, shouting “Bangity bang-bang” and occasionally “Stabbity-stab-stab”, until eventually he realizes he’s the last man standing.

He’s feeling pretty proud of himself until another soldier rounds a corner and starts walking toward him. Slowly. Stiffly. Menacingly.

The soldier takes aim with his stick and shouts, “Bangity-bang-bang!”

But the other soldier doesn’t go down this time. He keeps approaching, arms stiff at his sides, boots stomping aggressively into the ground.

The soldier begins to sweat. He clears his throat, adjusts grip on his stick and hollers, “Bangity bang-bang!” But nothing happens. The other soldier keeps marching toward him.

Now the soldier panics. He pretends to reload his stick and desperately cries out, “Bangity bang-bang! Bangity bang-bang! Stabbity stab-stab!” But to his dismay, nothing works.

Finally, the other soldier reaches him, kicks him in the shin and knocks him onto the ground.

He stands over the fallen soldier and says: “Tankity tank-tank.”....