Three high-school buddies all grew up to be millionaires, but all quite differently. Henry Distay and Seth Worford jointly owned an elite department store. Bill Halstrong became a gangster known for pumping lead into his rivals. He was an awful, sinful man.
One day Bill, wanting a cheap thrill, decided to do some burgling, and Henry and Seth’s store was the obvious target. Little did Bill know that Seth was head of security.
That night Bill broke stealthily into the store. He thought he was pretty slick, but realized he wasn’t dressed for thieving… so he put on designer jeans and gloves. Then he thought of his four servants who poured his drinks, and stole a beautiful pitcher for each one.
Just then he heard a noise! It was Seth. He ran to the register and took two half dollars and two pieces of folding money. He also grabbed two chocolate-covered cherries… but then **CLICK** Seth’s pistol was at his head.
When Henry arrived, he turned to Bill and said, “Did you, Bill, take jeans for your awfully leaded life, two halves and two folds, four pitchers for pourers, two gloves and two cherries, in slickness and in stealth, from Distay-Worford?” Bill: “Seth did his part.”
—
(This is from a 1976 issue of The Isolated M, an ancient ‘zine published for remote Mensa members. I do not know the name of the author, but it is likely Harper Fowley, the feghoot-obsessed publisher.)
Joke Poo: The Programmer’s Probation
Three college roommates all ended up ridiculously successful, but in wildly different fields. Alice Codebreaker founded a revolutionary AI company. Bob Binary ran a hugely profitable, but ethically questionable, data mining operation. And Carol Compiler became a renowned judge, known for her ruthlessly efficient rulings.
One day, Carol, bored and feeling rebellious, decided to test her skills with a little coding. Alice’s company, with its impenetrable security, seemed the perfect challenge. Little did Carol know, Alice had a state-of-the-art AI security system that Bob had surreptitiously helped design (for a hefty price).
That night, Carol stealthily attempted to breach Alice’s network. She thought she was clever, but quickly realized her old keyboard wasn’t up to the task… so she ‘borrowed’ a fancy ergonomic one and a pair of haptic feedback gloves. Then, thinking of her three overworked interns, she copied three premium AI development licenses for each of them.
Suddenly, an alert flashed on the screen! It was Bob’s AI, sensing the intrusion. Carol panicked and quickly grabbed two lines of compiled code and two blocks of uncompiled code. She also snatched two gigabytes of debug logs… but then ERROR MESSAGE! The system locked her out.
When Alice arrived, she turned to Carol and said, “Did you, Carol, take keyboard for ergonomics led life, two lines and two blocks, nine licenses for licenses, two gloves and two logs, in stealth and in hacks, from Codebreaker-Binary?” Carol: “Bob did his part.”
Okay, let’s dissect this excruciating feghoot (and I mean excruciating in the best, most groan-inducing way possible).
Key Elements:
- The Setup: Three childhood friends, diverse career paths (legitimate business, organized crime, security). This is crucial for setting the stage for the improbable encounter.
- The Absurdity: Bill, the gangster, decides to burgle his friends’ store for a “cheap thrill.” The motivation is ludicrous given his millionaire status.
- The Wordplay: The punchline hinges entirely on puns relating to the inventory Bill is trying to steal from the store
- The Feghoot Structure: The final exchange mimics a legal or religious incantation, building to a final, absurd pun resolution.
- The Reveal: “Seth did his part” resolving the list of goods into the name Benedict Arnold.
Analysis:
The joke operates on the level of multi-layered wordplay. The forced nature of the puns is, of course, the point. It relies on the audience’s patience and willingness to endure increasingly strained connections between the stolen items and the final reveal. The humour comes from the effort required to decode the nonsense.
Comedic Enrichment Attempt:
Let’s focus on the “gangster as a burglar” element. It’s intrinsically funny because it’s such a bizarre underutilization of resources. We’ll combine that with some historical trivia about real-life gangster extravagance.
New Bit:
(Setup) You know, Bill Halstrong robbing a store for a “cheap thrill” reminds me of a real gangster story. Al Capone, in the middle of the Great Depression, reportedly spent the equivalent of $50,000 a week on orchids.
(Punchline 1 – Observation) Now, you’d think a guy known for orchestrating the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre wouldn’t be so concerned with floral arrangements. But I guess even a ruthless killer needs a bit of beauty in his life… or at least a really extravagant way to impress his dates.
(Punchline 2 – New Joke) So, one day, Bugs Moran hears about Capone’s orchid obsession. Jealous, he decides to pull a heist. He sneaks into Capone’s flower shop, grabs a bunch of prize-winning orchids, and hides them in his car. As he’s driving away, he gets pulled over. The cop looks in the back, sees the orchids, and asks, “Hey, where’d you get these?” Moran, sweating bullets, replies, “I bought them… for my florist!” The cop sighs, “Aw, you didn’t have to. I’ll send flowers.”