Man Descending Puns

He said, "Look at my hair. It used to be so magnificent, but it's completely gone now. My hair can't be saved. But look outside at the forest. It's such a lovely forest with so many trees, but sooner or later they'll all be cut down and this forest will look as bald as my hair."

"What I want you to do..." the man continued. "Is, every time a tree is cut down or dies, plant a new one in my memory. Tell your descendants to do the same. It shall be our family's duty to keep this forest strong."

So they did.

Each time the forest lost a tree, the children replanted one, and so did their children, and their children after them.

And for centuries, the forest remained as lush and pretty as it once was, all because of one man and his re-seeding heirline.

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

What do you call a condescending con man going downstairs

A condescending con descending

There once was a princess named Emily, but the royal family called her Em for short. One day the king posed a riddle in order to choose a suitor for his eldest daughter, Elizabeth. The riddle was as follows:

Elizabeth has two apples, and Emily has one apple. Emily gives Elizabeth her apple as a wedding gift. How might you calculate the total amount of apples Elizabeth has presently?

Many days passed and no one could figure out the answer. Of course, on the first day a man came and answered, “Sire, to calculate the amount of apples Elizabeth has, you must add Emily’s apple.” He was promptly executed.

After this, the kingdom was stumped. Nobody knew how to calculate Elizabeth’s apples if the answer was not to simply to add Emily’s apple, and none dared to try and answer unless they were absolutely sure of it.

One night, a young man, determined to find the answer, climbed up the palace walls to watch the royal family as they ate.

“Father,” said Emily, “have you made the riddle too hard? No one has been able to guess it yet.”

“No worries Em,” responded the king, I have confidence that the time will come soon.”

The young man descended the wall, having learned the secret to the riddle.

The next day, dressed In his finest clothes, the young man approached the king with the answer to the riddle.

“What is your answer, young man?” declared the king.

The young man replied, “In order to calculate Elizabeth’s apples, you must ADD EM’S APPLE.”

The king answered “lol get it?”

One of the guys pulls out this really, really long lighter. And his friend says, "Hey, that's a cool lighter. Where'd you get it?" He says, "Oh, I've got this magic genie in a lamp. You know, rub the lamp, get a wish." Friend goes, "Well shit, man! Don't hold out! I want a wish!" "Okay, man, but I have to warn you.. This genie is *really* old.." "All right, whatever, just give me a wish." So he rubs the lamp, the genie comes out, and grants him a wish. He says, "I want a million bucks!" "Your wish is granted," says the genie, he disappears into the lamp, and suddenly a million *ducks* descend upon this lake. The guy is baffled and says, "Hey, what's the deal? I asked for a million *bucks*, not a million *ducks*.." His friend replies, "Dude, you think I asked for a 12-inch *Bic*?"

In the not too distant future, web censorship is pervasive; speech and freedom are strangers to one another; while pirates sail the seas with impunity, digital pirates are incarcerated by the busload.

Anyone who speaks out against this ban on open-dialogue or the free-sharing-of-ideas is ground down and hidden away, and the resistance is loosing its will.

A small group of contributors to reddit, huddled together in a bunker beneath barely-waving flags of Snoo, worked tirelessly to repost new ideas from around the internet, to release ideas from their chains, and make speech free ... again!

But it was not to be - a gang of the governments anti-piracy enforcers descended on this, the last bastion of humankind's will to share-freely. Arriving in an armored bus, ten shock-troopers breached the bunker and it looked like the day was lost.

Fortunately for us all, one brave redditor led the collective out a back entrance and they circled to the driveway. This leader told the other redditors to wait in the bushes while he overpowered the one soldier left guarding the transport. There was a flash of movement, a crack from a fallen branch as it struck the guard, and then, stolen keys in hand, the hero revved the engine and told the redditors to pile in.

He had to will himself ignore the gas gauge as he floored the accelerator on the 25,000 pound ticket to freedom - there was only survival or defeat, and nothing in between. Sirens came alive behind him as he rushed for the border to the promised land, to the Free-North.

As the engine begins to cough, the titanic weight of the transport cleaves the barricades asunder and the pursuing vehichles have to hard-brake to avoid skidding beyond their corrupt jurisdiction. Both exhausted and elated, the redditors follow their hero to the freedom promised by their new surroundings ... but their peril is not yet passed.

Though most of the pirate-hunters glower from the south-side of the border, one special agent has crossed over and is speaking with the border guards. The tension is thick. A long-faced guard turns to the newcomers, clearly troubled by what he must do.

"Folks," he says, a pained look on his kindly face, "I'm sorry, to do this, don't cha' know, but I got no choice, eh!"

Confused, the redditors look to one another, and tremble as they notice the agent's smug expression, greedy eyes fixed on the leader of the exodus.

"Look here, now, you are all welcome here, of course, and since speech is free here, we are

the man frowned and thought "well that's a little con descending."

As I descended down the adjacent, working escalator I noticed the man tapping his screwdriver impatiently at the bottom; looking around as if he were waiting for something. I couldn't resist...

>Me: "Do you have everything you need to fix it?"
>
>Him: "No!" <looking frustrated>
>
>Me: "Well, have you tried escalating?!"

In about half a second the man's face erupted in a smile while he proceeded to laugh so loudly that he startled himself and a woman nearby who gasped, turning to look at him. Somewhere behind me a woman unleashed a loud, "Ha!" as well.

I smiled all the way to my designated boarding gate =D