During an especially high-stakes game, a member of the group, Ron, lost $5,000 on a single hand, clutched his chest and dropped dead at the table from a heart attack.
Showing respect for their fallen comrade, the other five finished playing the hand standing up. Abraham looked around and asked, "So, who's going to tell his wife?"
They cut the cards, and Saul 'won' the dubious honour of delivering the sad news. They advise him to be discreet, be gentle, not to make a bad situation any worse.
"Discreet? I'm the most discreet person you'll ever meet. Discretion is my middle name," he says, "Leave it to me."
Saul went over to the apartment where Ron's wife lived. He knocked on the door, she quickly answered it, and saw him standing outside, looking somewhat nervous.
"What do you want, Saul? Where's my good-for-nothing husband?" she asked.
Saul pauses, thinking of how to tell her what happened.
"Ron just lost $5,000 playing poker," he said, "He's afraid to come home."
"WHAT?!?" She screamed in disbelief, "Tell that son-of-a-bitch to drop dead!"
"Can do!" replied Saul.
Joke Poo: The Lost Parrot
Four stressed-out corporate lawyers were stuck in a never-ending Zoom meeting discussing a massive merger. During a particularly tense negotiation, one of the lawyers, Brenda, muted herself, clutched her head, and visibly passed out on camera from sheer exhaustion.
Showing the appropriate amount of professional concern (meaning none), the other three finished their point about synergy. Then, David looked around at the virtual meeting and asked, "So, who’s going to tell her boss?"
They held a quick online poll, and Sarah ‘won’ the unwelcome task of delivering the bad news. They advised her to be delicate, understanding, and not to imply Brenda was slacking off.
"Delicate? I practically invented corporate-speak! I could soft-pedal a nuclear meltdown," Sarah boasted, "Leave it to me."
Sarah emailed Brenda’s boss, Mr. Henderson, a notoriously demanding partner. He immediately joined a separate Zoom call. Sarah appeared on his screen, looking as sympathetic as possible.
"Mr. Henderson," she began, "Brenda just lost a very important client in a simulated negotiation. She’s terribly embarrassed and unable to attend the meeting."
"WHAT?!?" Mr. Henderson bellowed, "Tell that birdbrain she’s fired and to disappear!"
"Right away!" replied Sarah, and then to Brenda’s camera she said, "Polly wants a cracker…or rather, a new job!"
Alright, let’s dissect this joke and then juice it up with some comedic enrichment.
Joke Deconstruction:
- Setup: Six retired Florida gentlemen, high-stakes poker, condo clubhouse. Establishes a specific, potentially comedic demographic and setting.
- Inciting Incident: Ron drops dead after a huge loss. Shifts the tone to darkly comedic.
- Complication: Choosing who informs the wife. Adds a layer of social awkwardness and impending doom.
- Character Introduction: Saul, claiming discretion. Sets up dramatic irony, as we anticipate his failure.
- Fulfillment: Saul’s incredibly undiplomatic (and hilarious) delivery and the wife’s explosive reaction.
- Punchline: "Can do!" Saul’s literal interpretation of the wife’s outburst delivers the final, absurd twist.
Key Elements:
- Florida Retirement Community: Stereotypes of retirees, leisure activities, and potential for eccentric behavior.
- High-Stakes Poker: Gambling, risk, potential for drama and financial ruin.
- Sudden Death: Shock value, morbid humor.
- Discretion vs. Indiscretion: The core comedic conflict.
- Literal Interpretation: Saul’s misunderstanding is the engine of the punchline.
Comedic Enrichment:
Now, let’s build on this. Here’s a joke variation that leverages some interesting facts about Florida and retirement communities:
New Joke:
Six retired Florida gentlemen, all named Morty (it’s a condo rule), were playing high-stakes Mahjong in the clubhouse. During a particularly tense tile exchange, one Morty clutched his chest and collapsed. After checking for a pulse (and finding none), the other Mortys, adhering to strict condo bylaws about unfinished games, finished the hand standing up.
Afterwards, the question arose: Who would tell Morty’s wife, Gladys? They decided on a competitive shuffleboard tournament to decide. The winner, naturally, was also named Morty.
This Morty, known for his "efficient" communication style (and suspected of using magnetic shuffleboard disks), arrived at Gladys’ door. He rang the bell, and Gladys answered, looking frazzled.
"Gladys," he announced, "Morty had a bad run of tiles tonight. Turns out, even a snowbird can fly south permanently. Also, he owes the pot three-fifty."
Gladys, unimpressed, sighed. "Another one? Last week it was Milton and his ‘sudden urge to join the choir invisible.’ You know, I think I’m going to start asking for pre-nuptial agreements in Bingo chips."
Analysis of the New Joke:
- Leveraging Florida Stereotypes: The joke plays on the common stereotype of Jewish retirees in Florida, specifically using the name "Morty." It introduces the game of mahjong, known for its popularity in the area.
- Exaggerated Condo Rules: The detail about unfinished games and standing up adds absurdity and mocks strict HOA rules.
- Shuffleboard Tournament: Adds another layer of ridiculous competition to a somber situation, emphasizing the detachment from the reality of death.
- "Efficient" Communication: The phrase characterizes the new joke teller as insensitive, similar to the original.
- Bingo Chips Prenup: This line replaces the direct order to die with a more world-weary, jaded response that fits the Florida retirement community setting. It also adds a bit of dark humor by implying this isn’t the first husband Gladys has lost.
Why it (might) work:
The new joke aims for a slightly different comedic effect. It replaces the raw shock and literal interpretation with a more cynical, darkly humorous take on the retirement community setting. It uses exaggeration and stereotype to create a funny, yet slightly unsettling, picture of life and death in Florida retirement. It also leans into the idea that in some retirement communities, death becomes almost commonplace, leading to a certain detached humor.