Line Of Force Puns

The friar puts a sign outside that said ‘bell ringer wanted, tryouts Saturday morning’

Saturday morning rolls around, and there were three people lined up out front of the church waiting to try to ring the bell. A tall, muscular man, a skinnier, frail man, and an average sized man.

The friar took them all up one at a time and handed them the hammer to hit the church bells with.

The muscular man grabbed the hammer in one hand, slammed it into the bell, and nearly shattered both with the force behind the swing. The friar said that they’ll have to keep looking.

The frail man could barley pick up the hammer. He swung it pitifully, and managed to ting the bell. The friar just shook his head and chuckled, thanking the man for coming.

The average sized man refused the hammer. Before the friar could question it, the man reared his head back and slammed it into the bell, producing a ring of such pure tone and quality it brought a tear to the friar’s eye. While he was wiping the tear from his face, the man, stumbling from the impact of skull to bell, accidentally tripped and fell off the bell tower to his death.

Well, the townsfolk had heard the beautiful bell, and a small crowd had gathered beneath the bell tower around the man’s body.

Collectively, they said “Who is he Friar? What happened?”

The friar shook his head sadly and said

“I don’t know, but his face rings a bell”

BUT IT ISN’T OVER CAUSE THEY STILL NEED A BELL RINGEE ROUND TWO KIDDOS HERE WE GO!!

So the next morning, when the friar opened the doors in the morning, a man approached him and said “Friar, you don’t know me, but the man who died yesterday was my brother. I’d be honored if you’d let me ring the bell today in his honor.”

The friar nodded and let the new man up the bell tower, handing him the hammer.

With a nightly swing, the man slammed the bell, producing again a high quality ringing tone. Unfortunately, he slipped while off balance and fell off the bell tower too and died.

Again, people were gathered around and they all asked as one “Who is he, Friar, what happened?”

The friar looked at them all in turn and said “I don’t know, but he’s a dead ringer for his brother”

She excitedly says yes, and the boy spends the entirety of the next day preparing for the big day.

The first thing he does to make it extra fancy is to rent a limousine for a day (yes, he is rich), but when he arrives at the rental center, he notices that many other people had the same idea. There was an enormous line that stretched out the building. Nevertheless, this boy was determined to make this night a special night, and waited for hours. Luckily, he succeeded in the end, and rented a shiny black limo. He was starting to get really excited.

After that, he goes to the tailor to pick up a brand new suit and tie to look as sharp as possible. But once again, the line for that wrapped around the block and forced the boy to wait another long hour. He sighed, but still waited in line, as he was quite persistent and knew it would be well worth it in the end. In the end, though, he got a perfect suit that fit him well. No wrinkles, no nothing; it was just pure handsomeness.

Then, the moment came. In his limousine, he once again drove up to his crush's house, well-dressed in the brand new suit he just bought. She came out looking stunning as well in an aqua dress that sparkled in the evening sunlight. Excited as ever, she leaped into the fancy limo and rode to prom with him, ready for the big night.

When they arrived, however, there was yet another long line into the ballroom, as many people needed to be accepted. It was quite a busy night. After half an hour of waiting, the couple finally made it through and began dancing. It was all going really well, and everyone was having quite a grand time.

A few hours later, they became thirsty and went to get a drink. Both him and his girlfriend were in the mood for fruit punch, but nobody else seemed to want it. When they entered the snack bar, they noticed more long lines of people wanting to get other snacks and drinks, but surprisingly... there was no punchline.

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

So once upon a time, there was a planet shaped like a cheerio. A small moon made of milk or tied the planet, going through the center of the donut shaped world. On this planet, lived an interesting species. They acted and lived similarly to us humans? But looked just like large Cheerios (with footings hands and feet like miis) Within this society there were levels of Cheerios: original, honey nut, and finally frosted. The originals were the backbone of the economy, doing the herd labor while the honey nuts ran the businesses and the frosted Cheerios (the top of the top) led the world. Our story today focuses on a single Cheerio. Born into an original Cheerio family, this lad learned the hard way how to work. From a young age, he was forced to get a job in the local milk refinery, where his dad worked. He grew up, and soon had a family of his own. His wife, son, and daughter all worked hard, but were happy. One day walking home from school, the kids found a runaway honey nut Cheerio pup, and decided to keep him. It wasn’t much, but it inspired our little Cheerio friend here. One day, he got fed up with taking orders, and demanded a raise. His entire family has worked in this one factory for three generations, and he wanted to move up in the world, not just for him but also his kids. His old boss however, did not have the power to promote this Cheerio, and he was forced to make a life changing decision: he would go to the refinery company and use every penny in the family savings account (under the bed) to try and get a higher position. After waiting on line for over a week, his appoint was finally here. After bickering and bargaining for hours, the refinery company boss saw a spark in this lad’s eye. He agreed to give this Cheerio a promotion to the honored honey nut glaze in exchange for everything this man owned, including the family’s prized honey nut dog. Was it worth it? Well pretty soon he owned his own milk refinery and was able to breed his own honey nut dogs, so yes, yes it was. Owning and operating the refinery went smoothly. Milk was transported from the moon to the planet using space busses, and the milk itself was funneled down to the refineries using large straws. After the milk was ready to drink, it was shipped off to be sold. He was happy working here, but eventually he realized it wasn’t enough. This Cheerio, once a simple original Cheerio wanted to follow the “American dream” and do the best he could. He wanted to become a frosted Ch

One was named Michael White and the other Kevin Wong. Together, they formed a good-cop-bad-cop team known as White and Wong.

When White was killed in the line of duty, Wong's brother joined the force, but it was never quite the same. After all, two Wongs don't make a White.

Once upon a time in the 80’s, the religious supreme ruler of a middle eastern country fled outside military forces seeking to strip him of his power using whatever means necessary. Fearing for his life, he was secretly smuggled into the US where he reluctantly shaved his beard and attempted to blend in.

He successfully went native and got an apartment, and soon realized he needed a job to pay for food and rent. He didn't want to do any sort of manual labor or serve others, as he craved comfortable control. He eventually became a toll booth operator, where he enjoyed sitting in his high chair, making people pay him so that he would grant them passage. Over time he grew bold and began to use his own judgment on what vehicles would pay him for his blessing to cross.

One day, two semi-tractor trailer beverage trucks were in his line, a Pepsi truck in front, and a Coke truck behind. The Pepsi truck pulled up and he said "Pepsi truck, you may pass for free." The Pepsi truck driver happily accepted, and over his CB radio told the Coke truck driver “This guy just let me through for free!”. When the Coke truck pulled up, hoping to also pass for free, the toll booth dictator said "Coke truck, you will pay me 100 of your American dollars."

The Coke truck driver was livid, and said "You let that Pepsi truck pass for free! You want me to pay 100 dollars?! That’s outrageous! I am going to report this! What is your name?!" Our toll booth operator proudly replied "Ayatollah Cokemainly."