Good knights

Fire emergency

A fire started on some grasslands near a farm, and the county fire department was called to put it out. The fire was more than the county fire department could handle, so someone suggested that they call a nearby volunteer squad for backup. Despite some doubt that the volunteer outfit would be of any assistance, the call was made.

The volunteers arrived in a dilapidated old fire truck. They rumbled straight toward the fire, drove right into the middle of the flames and stopped. The firefighters jumped off the truck and frantically started spraying water in all directions. Soon they had snuffed out the center of the fire, breaking the blaze into two easily controlled parts.

Watching all this, the farmer was so impressed with the volunteer fire department’s work and was so grateful that his farm had been spared that right there on the spot he wrote the volunteers a check for $1,000. A local news reporter asked the volunteer fire captain what the department planned to do with the funds.

“That ought to be obvious,” he responded, wiping ashes off his coat. “The first thing we’re gonna do is get the brakes fixed on our fire truck!”

All the good knights were leaving for the Crusades. One knight told his best friend, “My bride is one of the most beautiful women in the world. It would be a terrible waste if no man could have her. Therefore, as my best and most trusted friend, I am leaving you the key to her chastity belt to use should I not return from battle.” The company of knights were only a mile or so out of town when they noticed a cloud of dust approaching.

Thinking it might be an important message from the town, the column halted.

A horseman approached. It was the knight’s best friend. He yelled, “Hey, you gave me the wrong key!”

Say it slowly

A man and his wife were driving their RV across the country and were nearing a Florida town spelled Kissimmee. They noted the strange spelling and tried to figure how to pronounce it: KISS-a-me; kis-AM-me; kis-a-ME. They grew more perplexed as they drove into the town.

Since they were hungry, they pulled into a place to get something to eat. At the counter, the man said to the waitress, “My wife and I can’t seem to be able to figure out how to pronounce this place. Will you tell me where we are? And say it very slowly so that I can understand.”

The waitress looked at him and said: “Buuurrrgerrr Kiiiinnnng.”

Movie time

A man in a movie theater notices what looks like a chicken sitting next to him.

“Are you a chicken?” asked the man, surprised. “Yes.”

“What are you doing the movies?”

The chicken replied, “Well, I liked the book.”

Double dent

at

A man was getting into his car when he noticed a dent. On the windshield was a note and a phone number from the driver.

“I feel terrible,” the woman apologized when he called. “I hit your car as I was pulling into the next parking spot.”

“Please, don’t worry,” he said to her. “I’m sure our insurance companies will take care of everything.”

“Thank you for your understanding,” she said. “You’re so much nicer than the man I hit on the way out.”

Say when

An alcoholic wakes up in jail. He asks the first police officer he sees, “Why am I here?”

“For drinking,” the officer.

“Great,” says the man, “when do we start?” replies

So Our Hero is up late one night on eBay considering some inadvisable purchases when he sees … a Skoda. He’s always loved weird old cars, and this — a mid-’70s 100R — is that in spades. It’s only 30 miles away, it’s supposedly running and the Buy It Now price is peanuts, so he pulls the trigger.

The next day, he has a friend take him out to pick up the car. It’s in decent shape, it starts up without a lot of drama and only a little smoke. Our Hero sends his friend home, pays with cash and heads home.

Like with any newly purchased car, it starts revealing some quirks. Our Hero notes them and starts making a mental list of things he’ll need at his next trip to the auto store. Ten miles from home, though, things start getting bad. The car sputters and coughs, then resumes like it’s OK.

Our Hero shrugs and continues. The sun dips below the horizon. He puts the lights on. Another couple of miles, and it happens again, only this time he realizes that it’s not just the engine — the lights have conked out too. But they come back on, and he putters farther.

The failures get more frequent until he’s barely able to cough along, lights flickering, engine sputtering. Somehow, he manages to limp into the parking lot of a foreign car shop as the old Skoda dies.

The mechanic comes out, wiping his hands. Our Hero explains the problem. The mechanic nods sagely and says, “Pop the trunk.” Our Hero does.

The mechanic points to the tiny bulb illuminating the rear-mounted engine. There’s a bare spot on the inside of the trunk and scorching around it.

“See,” the mechanic says, “This is a problem on these old Eastern European cars: They install this light without enough insulation, it starts shorting, and pretty soon you’re stranded at the side of the road. That stupid Czech engine light will get you every time.”

Lisa Denton