Seven ate Nine
This weekend I was asked by the local children's medical hospital to come and read to a small group of sick children. I was touched at being asked because I love children, I picked out a few books that I really enjoyed as a young boy and drove right over.
I got there and it was the saddest sight. Seven little bald kids were sitting around on the floor waiting for me to come in and read. I must tell you I was nervous, I almost threw up.
I sat down and gave a bright smile to try and shake off my nervousness at being around these poor sick children. I decided to break the tension with a joke.
"Why was six afraid of seven?" I asked.
One boy with a scar on his head yelled out, "Because seven eight nine!"
I smiled and said, "Yes, but on Bizarro world, it's nine eight seven."
Nothing. Not even a titter of a laugh. I coughed and said louder, "Nine, eight, seven."
Still nothing. I started shouting it, "NINE, EIGHT, SEVEN, NINE, EIGHT, SEVEN, NINE, EIGHT, SEVEN. They told me you had cancer, not that you were a bunch of fucking retards!"
I threw the three books at the boy who stole the first joke from me, my joke. Little thief. He sneered at me when he answered, too.
I jumped up and left really fast. I might have kicked one of them on the way out.
I got home and was full of regret. I wish I would have thrown the books at the glarer and then yelled...just to him...
"Joke stealing will give you cancer."
Those other kids didn't deserve that, but brain tumor boy did.