Maria Hernandez was at home as usual, making dinner, when Juan Santiago knocked at her door. “Maria, may I come in?” he asked. “I’ve something to tell you.”
“Of course you can come in, Juan, you’re always welcome. But where’s my husband?”
“That’s what I’m here to tell you, Maria. There was an accident down at the Corona brewery...”
“Oh, God no!” Cried Maria. “Please don’t tell me...”
“I must, Maria. Your husband Jose is dead and gone. I’m sorry.”
Maria reached a hand out to her side, found the arm of the rocking chair next to the fireplace, pulled it to her, and collapsed into the chair. She wept pitiably for several minutes. Finally she looked up at the bearer of the tragic news. “How did it happen, Juan?”
“It was terrible, Maria. He fell into a vat of Corona and drowned.”
“Oh my dear Jesus! But you must tell me the truth, Juan. Did he at least go quickly?”
“Well, no Maria....no.”
“No?”
“Fact is, he got out three times to pee.”
(Wonder how long till this gets bumped over to the "off topic stuff" site, which is where it really belongs. He-he-he!!)
(The answer is...about 25 minutes, and here it is after 11:00 PM.
Damn, I'm impressed.
Kudos to Denise, or James, or Anna, or whoever. You do good work. I could only wish the watchdog at my house would be this effective and vigilant.)