Can Xavier be a stand-up?
I wheeled over to the young man in the kung-fu jacket and wind swept blond hair. He looked like some kind of 70’s poster boy warning students what would happen if they dropped out. He seemed like a rather dower young man. I think he was probably stoned.
I gave him a quick telepathic scan. Apparently he’s an orphan. His care-takers were murdered by some government goons. Then his mentor, some creepy old guy in a robe, was murdered by a villainous psycho claiming to be his father. This kid was going to be tough to make laugh.
“Knock knock,” I said as I came to a stop next to him, a bright friendly smile on my face.
He turned to look at me. He wore a very dark expression. “Who’s there?” he finally said with an air of exasperation.
“Interrupting cow.”
“Interr-”
“Moo.”
..
..
Nothing. Not even a shrug.
"Get it? The cow-"
"I got it," the kid said.
Okay, fine. “How many judges does it take to change a light bulb?” I asked, cheerfully.
Now he shrugged.
“None. They prefer to be in the dark. Ha ha. Get it? In the dark? Because, you know, our judges are so clueless?”
His expression did not change. Alright. So, he didn’t like the sophisticated stuff. Maybe an ethnic joke would work.
“Why can’t Italians barbeque?”
He didn’t even bother shrugging this time.
“Because the pasta falls through the grill,” I said after a pause.
Fluke stayed stony faced. “. . what’s an Italian?” he asked.
“Forget it. Here’s my best joke. What do fish smoke?”
He shook his head slightly.
“Sea weed.”
He gave me a long blank look and then shrugged. Damn.
Maybe my sidekick would have more luck. I summoned him telepathically, telling him I was in serious trouble. Arthur was in the bungalow cellar where his bed is. He rushed out, pressed the button on his chest that caused his flimsy wings to pop out and then he leapt into the air.
Arthur sailed gracefully through the sky towards us. He came in for a landing next to me. As he landed, the ball of his foot touched down onto a small pebble. The pebble went flying and Arthur’s leg swooped out from under him. With a loud thud he crashed down hard onto his butt. His wings folded around onto his front and then sprung back against the ground, throwing him into the air. He smacked into the ground face first.
His loud yelp startled Fluke. He looked down at Arthur and suddenly his mouth broke into a large grin. As Arthur stumbled wearily to his feet, gripping his aching backside and moaning softly, Fluke burst out laughing hysterically.
I’ll take what I can get.
I gave him a quick telepathic scan. Apparently he’s an orphan. His care-takers were murdered by some government goons. Then his mentor, some creepy old guy in a robe, was murdered by a villainous psycho claiming to be his father. This kid was going to be tough to make laugh.
“Knock knock,” I said as I came to a stop next to him, a bright friendly smile on my face.
He turned to look at me. He wore a very dark expression. “Who’s there?” he finally said with an air of exasperation.
“Interrupting cow.”
“Interr-”
“Moo.”
..
..
Nothing. Not even a shrug.
"Get it? The cow-"
"I got it," the kid said.
Okay, fine. “How many judges does it take to change a light bulb?” I asked, cheerfully.
Now he shrugged.
“None. They prefer to be in the dark. Ha ha. Get it? In the dark? Because, you know, our judges are so clueless?”
His expression did not change. Alright. So, he didn’t like the sophisticated stuff. Maybe an ethnic joke would work.
“Why can’t Italians barbeque?”
He didn’t even bother shrugging this time.
“Because the pasta falls through the grill,” I said after a pause.
Fluke stayed stony faced. “. . what’s an Italian?” he asked.
“Forget it. Here’s my best joke. What do fish smoke?”
He shook his head slightly.
“Sea weed.”
He gave me a long blank look and then shrugged. Damn.
Maybe my sidekick would have more luck. I summoned him telepathically, telling him I was in serious trouble. Arthur was in the bungalow cellar where his bed is. He rushed out, pressed the button on his chest that caused his flimsy wings to pop out and then he leapt into the air.
Arthur sailed gracefully through the sky towards us. He came in for a landing next to me. As he landed, the ball of his foot touched down onto a small pebble. The pebble went flying and Arthur’s leg swooped out from under him. With a loud thud he crashed down hard onto his butt. His wings folded around onto his front and then sprung back against the ground, throwing him into the air. He smacked into the ground face first.
His loud yelp startled Fluke. He looked down at Arthur and suddenly his mouth broke into a large grin. As Arthur stumbled wearily to his feet, gripping his aching backside and moaning softly, Fluke burst out laughing hysterically.
I’ll take what I can get.
posted by Professor Xavier at 1:33 PM
8 Comments:
I tried and I tried to upload and link to pictures but Blogger foiled me at every turn. You just have to imagine a stony-faced Luke and a bumbling Arthur. Sorry for having to ask you to exert your imaginations, but you can send your complaints to Blogger.
Good Job Prof X.
About the picture issue, try hosting them on Flicker or anyother picter hosting site and drop the HTML code into your post. Jon showed me how to do it and it was easy. I am dumb as a post in HTML and I managed it :)
That's a good idea, AOC. I'll give that a shot.
The humour seemed a little suspect there.
Humor often doesn't translate across cultures. I mean you even spell it differently, Captain. That's very telling.
Hey if you two guys have a spare moment, could you do the mirror bit where you copy each other's moves? That would be bitchin'
yes I always use the links fluke uses
supload or tinypic
when blogger has hic ups
you can always edit and add the pictures ;)
The violence! The violence!
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