Text 5414, 128 rader
Skriven 2005-02-21 04:24:56 av FidoNews Robot (2:2/2.0)
Ärende: FidoNews 22:08 [02/06]: Clean Humour & Jokes
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                      CLEAN HUMOUR & JOKES
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               Uncle Bunion Tours The Brewery


                 Jack Yates, 1:3613/1275


It hasn't been the same down here since Uncle Bunion got his cravat
entangled in the stirring paddle that mixes the mash at the old
American Brewery, makers of Tam O'Shanter <tm> Ale back in the heyday
of the horse-drawn ice wagon and the pushcart full of produce.  Howl
for help is what he did and the alarum was struck at the corner
fire-box, which brought two engine companies and a hook-and-ladder
truck screaming down the street to the scene.  They assessed the
situation and timed the revolutions of the mixer paddle and the hook-
and-ladder guys opined that they could catch Uncle Bunion by hooking
his sleeve-garters with a pike-pole as he passed by, while the engine
companies fought over which of them was going to get the privilege of
pumping out the vat of beer.

Word soon spread of the dilemma at the brewery, and the scene became
crowded with Batallion Chiefs, off-duty policemen and members of the
press with their credentials and Speed Graphics, not to mention four
old gentlemen who had been playing checkers in the park down the
street and had the foresight to stop at the corner grocery and buy a
pint of ice cream each, then empty the round wax-coated carton in the
gutter so that they would have a proper vessel to help assure that no
spilled beer would be wasted.

As we look in on the affray, we see a half-dozen firemen, their
ladders propped against the side of the vat trying to catch Uncle
Bunion as he passes by at the approximate speed of 24 revolutions per
minute, while more firemen are laying hose across the street to a
waiting water-wagon used by the city to keep the dust down on the dirt
streets, hoping to salvage as much of the liquid as was possible, and
calculating what measure of it they will have to give over to the
foreman of the Department of Public Works in exchange for the
"borrowing" of the wagon, while the brewery's founder and chairman is
standing on the staircase outside his door exhorting Uncle Bunion to
keep his chin above the surface and to not swallow the bubbles for
fear of inviting flatulance, in which case the contents of the vat
would not be salvageable, not even for sale in the poorer parts of
town and would have to be viewed as a loss.

So we now have a dozen firemen in the building and as many and more
outside shouting orders and encouragement, the street crews from that
quadrant of town had gathered, ostensibly to watch over their water
wagon, The precinct captain and his constabulary keeping order in the
street, and four old geezers that had abandoned their checkerboard, as
well as various and sundry citizens who had taken time from their
normal activities to come and offer advice and aid.

And then the organ-grinder appeared.

The organ-grinder saw the gathering and viewed it as a great
opportunity so he unlsung his instrument, set it on its peg and began
to crank, whence it bellowed forth with renditions of "O Sole Mio",
followed by a procession of tarantellas and Gipsy dance music.
Meanwhile, his trained monkey worked the crowd with a practiced
approach, a tug at the frock or coat, a wistful look upon its
countanance while he raised his little tin cup in supplication for
coins.

The Precinct captain, worried that the crowd had grown beyond the
capacity of the street started shouting for the attendees to move
across the way onto the opposite sidewalk, but as the organ-grinder
had begun to sing in accompaniment to his instrument, the voice of
that minion of the law was drowned out and went unheard.  Wishing to
be recognized as the authority in charge and understanding the reason
that he was not, he grabbed the organ-grinder by his weskit and,
indicating the nearby stable-barn, rather rudely propelled him thither
by the toe of his boot.  This, however, caused the organ-grinder to
lose his grasp on the monkey's leash, and the monkey, realizing that
he had no allies in the immediate area, slipped under a broken slat in
the brewery gate and into the vat room where he espied a veritable
river of the golden mead being drawn from the vessel that contained
Uncle Bunion.

Now, everyone knows that an organ-grinder's monkey carries a tin cup,
we expect it, we could not conceive of an organ-grinder's monkey
without a tin cup; however, as this primate had acquired a taste for
the nectar of the hops, he had no need or purpose for coinage, so he
removed the government's hard specie from the cup and flung it in the
air in the way of freeing the cup for other, more important tasks.

The monkey set about scooping up cups of beer and quaffing them on the
spot, but, whilst he had been engaged in begging the gathered
assemblage to part with their coins, one of the old checker-playing
geezers, being nearly sightless, had mistakenly placed his steel,
nickel-sized slug to which had been soldered a length of piano wire so
that it could be withdrawn from a pay telephone after making a call,
into the beggar's cup. This interesting piece had flown through the
air and fallen into the cog-works that drove the shaft that turned the
paddles that were caught in Uncle Bunion's cravat.

As the shaft turned 'round, one of the cogs kept striking the piece of
piano wire, which made a twanging sound, which aroused the monkey's
curiosity. He went to the open gear-works to see the source of this
amusing sound, and was mesmerised by the slowly-rotating bits therein,
his head began to rotate in unison with the biggest of gears, his eyes
became foggy and he might have lost his balance and fallen into the
works except that his stomach was much disturbed by the motion of the
gears and he regurgitated, expelling all that he had eaten and drunk
that day.

The force of this stream of vomit fell sqarely on the metal slug and
piano wire which became dislodged and plunged further into the cog-
works where it lodged and brought the machine to a halt.
Seizing the opportunity, the firemen reached in unison and grabbed
Uncle Bunion by his sleeve-garters and pulled him from the vat, half
of which contents had been pumped away for future forensic
investigation by the Constabulary, the firemen and the Head of the
Department of Public Works.  Uncle Bunion was soaked in every manner
of use of the word, The founder and chairman of the board was pleased
to learn that the balance of the contents of the vat were unsullied
and the reporters gathered 'round to make glass-plate photographs of
the primate who saved the day, the first known instance of a machine
being stopped by a monkey's retch in the works.


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