a kumquat, a lampshade, and a barracuda were hitchhiking to hollywood.
it started to rain, and they came to an old dark house.
they went up and knocked on the door.
a farmer answered.
mister farmer, said the kumquat, it is cold and rainy out here, and no one seems willing to pick us up and drive us to hollywood, so will you give us shelter for the night?
yes, the farmer replied, on one condition.
and what might that be? the kumquat replied.
i have a daughter, and she can not sing to save her life, so if you would give her some singing lessons, you are welcome to stay the night.
that sounds good, said the kumquat, and the kumquat, the lampshade, and the barracuda entered the old dark house.
the farmer escorted the kumquat to the daughter’s room, and the lampshade and the barracuda were left in the parlor, where they were soon joined by the farmer’s second daughter, who was carrying some needles and yarn, and a half finished sweater.
i have been knitting this sweater for forty years, the farmer’s second daughter said, but i am not making much progress. do you think you could help me out?
i will try, said the barracuda.
just then the sound of a terrible crash, audible over the wind and rain, came from outside.
the door opened, and the farmer’s third daughter entered.
i just crashed the rolls royce into the old elm tree, the farmer’s third daughter said. i could really use some driving lessons.
i am at your service, the lampshade said.
just then a more terrible sound rent the air, from down the hall where the kumquat was giving the farmer’s first daughter singing lessons.
you know, william, yancey interrupted at this point, i think this joke needs some work. or maybe you aren’t getting it quite right. maybe you should go back to whoever told it to you, and work out the kinks.
william started to reply, but just then the door of the store opened and a stranger appeared.
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