At dawn the telephone rings. �Hello, Senor Rod? 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, Senor Rod, that your parrot, he is dead.�
�My parrot? Dead? The one that won the International competition?�
�Si, Senor, that's the one.�
�Damn, that's a pity! I spent a small fortune on that bird. What did he die from?�
�From eating the rotten meat, Senor Rod.�
�Rotten meat? Who fed him rotten meat?�
�Nobody, Senor. He ate the meat of the dead horse.�
�Dead horse? What dead horse?�
�The thoroughbred, Senor Rod.�
�My prize thoroughbred is dead?�
�Yes Senor Rod, 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, Senor.�
�Good Lord! What fire are you talking about, man?�
�The one at your house, Senor! A candle fell and the curtains caught on fire.�
�What? Are you saying that my mansion is destroyed because of a candle?�
�Yes, Senor Rod...�
�But there's electricity at the house! What was the candle for?�
�For the funeral, Senor Rod.�
�WHAT BLOODY FUNERAL??!�
�Your wife's, Senor Rod. She showed up very late one night and I thought she was a thief, so I hit her with your Taylormade SuperQuad 460 golf club.�
SILENCE... LONG SILENCE...
�Ernesto, if you broke that club, you're in deep shit!�
The Parrot is dead
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