The Head And The Heart Puns

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

Bump…

Bump…

Bump…

Walking faster, he looks back and through the fog he makes out the image of an upright casket banging its way down the middle of the street toward him.

Bump…

Bump…

BUMP…

Terrified, the man begins to run toward his home. The casket still bouncing quickly behind him.

Faster…

Faster…

FASTER…

Bump…

Bump…

BUMP…

He runs up to his door, fumbles with the keys, opens the door, rushes in and slams and locks the door behind him.

Rushing up the stairs to his bathroom, the man locks himself in. His heart is pounding. His head is reeling. His breath is coming in sobbing gasps.

With a loud CRASH the casket breaks down the door. Bumping and clapping towards him.

The man screams and reaches for something, anything, but all he can find is cough syrup!

Desperate, he throws the cough syrup as the casket!

And…

The coffin stops….

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

... he picked it up carefully with his trunk and peered at the little window with a racing heart...

Positive! ... Brenda was pregnant!

OMG... fear, excitement, shock... and yet more worrying "why hasn't she told me?"

A hundred scenarios raced through his head, his ears trembling, his trunk twitching as each played out...

Finally he calmed... maybe she was waiting for the right moment to tell him the news?

He chose to be patient... he watched her carefully the whole day, carefully avoiding anything that might show that he knew... but Bethany gave no hints whatsoever.

Several days went by, and he grew more and more anxious.

Finally, he could take it no longer...

"Bethany..." he said

"It's time we discussed the elephant in the womb".

I came downstairs from taking a shower. Everything was going great ... Until I looked out in the kitchen and saw my dad sprawled out facedown on the floor. I only saw his bottom half, and I was too afraid to look through the doorway and see what the hell happened. I instantly freaked out and started yelling. I don't even remember what I said, but it was something like "What's going on?!?" or "What happened here?!?!" I don't even know what was going on in my head. I thought he passed out or had a heart attack or something. My dog was standing over him staring, looking really confused.

I pulled out my phone and tried to dial my mom, but I was too nervous. Then I realized that was stupid and I should call 911. (Keep in mind I was so panicked/freaked out that I hadn't even seen his face... If he died or something I didn't want to see it. I was terrified.) The whole time I was yelling "What happened??! What's going on?!?!" I dialed the 9, maybe the 1...

And he stands up, laughing. He wanted to see how I would handle the situation. His explanation was he "thought it would be funny to see how I'd act."

I can't unsee it. I honestly thought he collapsed from a heart attack or something. He thought the whole thing was hilarious.

There was a boy in high school named Bonnie. As you can imagine, he was bullied and picked on because of his strange name. This lead to social anxiety and a few other issues, but there was one girl who helped him through all of his pain. He had a huge crush on this girl, and after weeks of psyching himself up, he asked her to the school dance coming up.

Much to his delight, he said yes, and off to the dance they went. They had a great time and shortly after, started dating. They spent a lot of time together, calling, texting and always hanging out. They were meant for each other. They continued dating after high school, into college. On their graduation day, he proposed to her on the stage. He was nervous about asking her in public like this, but as he got down on one knee, her face lit up, tears formed in her eyes. He asked her to marry him, she said yes and the crowd cheered.

Fast forward a few years, they've bought their own house, and she's now pregnant with their first child. In the delivery room, Bonnie is standing by her side, their newborn child in her arms.

"I love you so much, hon." Bonnie told his wife, holding one of her hands. "You can name our baby girl anything you wise." he told her.

"Love. I want to name her Love." she replied, looking into his eyes. Bonnie was surprised by the strange name, and at first hesitant to agree, but he told her she could name their daughter anything. He nods in agreement and they carry on with their lives.

Fourteen years later, as with what happened with Bonnie, Love was picked on in high school for her strange name. One day, Love came home crying.

"What's wrong, Love?" Bonnie asked her worriedly.

"I hate you! Why did you give me such a stupid name?!" she screamed at him. She was furious. She was tired of the teasing and the mockery in high school. In a fit of rage, she pulled out Bonnie's handgun she had found in his night stand. She pulled the trigger and a bullet passed into Bonnie's chest.

Love panicked and ran away, and Bonnie's wife came after hearing the gun shot. She ran to Bonnie's side, picking his head up in her hands. She asked him what had happened.

"Shot through the heart... And you're to blame..." He said, weakly. "You gave Love... A bad name."

I have been in many places, but I've never been in Kahoots. Apparently, you

can't go alone. You have to be in Kahoots with someone.

I've also never been in Cognito. I hear no one recognizes you there.

I have, however, been in Sane. They don't have an airport; you have to be

driven there. I have made several trips there, thanks to my children, friends,

family and work.

I would like to go to Conclusions, but you have to jump, and I'm not too much

on physical activity anymore.

I have also been in Doubt. That is a sad place to go, and I try not to visit

there too often. I've been in Flexible, but only when it was very important to

stand firm.

Sometimes I'm in Capable, and I go there more often as I'm getting older.

One of my favorite places to be is in Suspense! It really gets the adrenalin

flowing and pumps up the old heart!

At my age I need all the stimuli I can get!

I may have been in Continent, but I don't remember what country I was in. It's

an age thing. They tell me it is very wet and damp there.

PLEASE DO YOUR PART! LOVE EACH OTHER! YEP!

My job is done! Life is too short for negative drama and petty

things. So laugh insanely, love truly and forgive quickly!

From one unstable person to another. I hope everyone is happy in your head -

we're all doing pretty well in mine!

Just kidding. All my travel plans are to doctors and the bathroom.

When behind him he hears:

BUMP...

BUMP...

BUMP...

Walking faster, he looks back and makes out the image of an upright casket banging its way down the middle of the street towards him.

BUMP...

BUMP...

BUMP...

Terrified, the man begins running home, the casket bouncing quickly behind him.

FASTER

FASTER

BUMP...

BUMP...

BUMP...

He runs up to his door, fumbles with his keys, opens the door, and slams it shut and locks it behind him.

However, the casket crashes through the door, with the lid of the casket clacking

Clapity-BUMP...

Clapity-BUMP...

Clapity-BUMP...

on his heels, the terrified man runs.

Rushing upstairs in the bathroom, the man locks himself in. His heart is pounding; his head is reeling; his breath is coming in sobbing gasps.

With a loud CRASH the casket breaks down the door. Bumping and clapping towards him

A man screams and reaches for something, anything, but all he can find is a bottle of cough syrup! Desperate, he throws the bottle of cough syrup at the casket and...

The coffin stops.

A man is walking home alone one foggy evening, when behind him he faintly hears:

thump...

thump...

thump...

Senses tingling, he begins walking faster only to look back and make out the image of an upright casket banging its way down the middle of the street towards him.

THUMP...

THUMP...

THUMP...

Terrified, the man begins running home, the casket bouncing quickly behind him.

FASTER

FASTER

THUMP...

THUMP...

THUMP...

He runs up to his door, fumbles with his keys, opens the door, slams it shut and locks it behind him.

However, the casket crashes through the door, and with the lid of the casket clacking on his heels, the terrified man runs.

Clappity-THUMP...

Clappity-THUMP...

Clappity-THUMP...

Rushing upstairs to the bathroom, the man locks himself in. His heart is pounding; his head is reeling; his breath is coming in sobbing gasps.

With a loud CRASH! the casket breaks down the door. Thumping and clapping towards him, the man screams and reaches for something, anything, but all he can find is a bottle of cough syrup! Desperate, he throws it at the casket and...

The coffin stops.