At dawn the telephone rings.
“Hello, Senor Gene? This is Ernesto the caretaker at your country house.”
“Ah yes, Ernesto. What can I do for you? Is there a problem?”
“Um, I am just calling to advise you, sir, that your parrot died”
“My parrot? Dead? The one that won the International competition or the other one?”
“The champion sir.”
“Damn! That’s a pity! I spent a small fortune on that bird. What did he die from?”
“From eating rotten meat.”
“Rotten meat? Who the hell fed him rotten meat?”
“Nobody senor. He ate the meat of one of the dead horses.”
“Dead horse? What dead horse?”
“The thoroughbred, Mr. Lucky. He died from all that work pulling the water cart.”
“Are you insane? What water cart?”
“The one we used to put out the fire.”
“Good Lord! What fire are you talking about, man?”
“The one at your house! A candle fell and the curtains caught on fire.”
“What the…..!!! But there’s electricity at the house!!!! What was the candle for?”
“For the funeral.”
“WHAT DAMN FUNERAL?!”
“Your mother in law’s. She showed up one night out of the blue and I thought she was a thief, so I hit her with one of your new golf clubs.”
THERE WAS A LONG SILENCE……..
“Ernesto if you broke that golf club you’re fired!