Italian Food

My grandfather served in World War 2. He liberated Italy, and when he wasn’t screwing whores and stealing priceless art works, he was chowing down on the best food he could get his hands on.
He brought back crates and crates of paintings and sculptures, only to lose them all when the Army followed up on the Vatican’s complaints about looting.
He kept one treasure, though: a recipe book, collecting up amazing dishes that kept his restaurant busy every night.
One night, a burglar shot him.
The book stopped the bullet.
Don’t ever say Italian food is bad for you.

Crash

Despite the fact that Lieutenant Martin has horrible vision, he is the son of General Martin, so his application to Flight School was approved.
From day one, Junior’s been a bigger threat to our country’s air defenses than any foreign enemy.
He isn’t very good at landings, as you can see from this report on destroyed assets and casualties, but he does show an aptitude for packing and using his parachute, because it has deployed every time.
We’ll resolve this by sabotaging the ejection seat in his next solo flight.
Just hope that he doesn’t crash into your office building.

Taps

Regulations state that every burial gets a bugler.
The problem is, the enemy took out Rogers and Menendez – the only two guys who play the bugle.
“Who knows anything about playing music?” shouts the company commander.
Washington stood up. “I scratched a bit in clubs.”
“Sit down!” shouts the commander. “Anybody else?”
I nudged Washington. “Think we can rig something up?”
He nodded.
And I stood up.
Washington and I rigged up a bugle to play a track out from a speaker in the bell.
And it worked great
Until it rained, and the damn thing shorted out the camp.

The Leader

Sufficiently powerful magic swords can overwhelm their owners and take control of their bodies.
So when the fighter we’d hired with a king’s ransom in the tavern drew the sword we’d lent him and growled “This one will do” in Razorwind’s cold steel voice, we knew we had our party leader back.
“This time, can you save a healing spell for my handler?” the sword asked our cleric. “The money you keep paying and taking back from them can buy a potion or two.”
The cleric whispered “Certainly, sir.” and Razorwind pulled back from his neck.
And we marched on.

Miss The Boat

When the war came, Mother yelled “RUN!” and we ran to the docks.
The boat was crowded and leaky, and the captain said we needed to shed weight or we’d sink.
A dozen mothers and fathers jumped overboard and sacrificed themselves to save us.
Or so they thought.
The captain waited until dark before tossing the rest of the adults overboard and turning the boat around.
“I’ll sell the rest of you to the factories.”
Except me. I hid under some ropes and waited, and when he set out again, I slit his throat.
Now what? I ask the sky.

Song Fight

During the American Revolution, to symbolize the casting off of British rule, the lyrics were stripped from the song “God Save The King” and changed to “My Country Tis Of Thee.”
Canadians, being a part of the British Commonwealth, still sing the original version.
This makes for some interesting situations at karaoke bars on the border.
Put enough drinks in the crowd, fire up the tune, and you’ll get both sides trying to shout each other down.
Sometimes, a fight breaks out. People get hurt, glasses and chairs and tables get broken.
And the Mexican laborers sweep up the damage.

The Fallen Rise Up

Veteran’s Day is for the living soldiers, and they march in parades.
Memorial Day is for the fallen ones, and we go to the cemeteries to put wreaths and flags on their graves.
This wasn’t enough for the witchdoctor, who poured a strange bubbling concoction into the fertilizer bin of the automatic sprinkler system at Arlington National Cemetery.
The timer went off at midnight, by the next morning, our nation’s finest and bravest were roaming the cemetery, shambling around and moaning “BRAAAAAAAAAAAAINS! BRAAAAAAAAAAAAINS!”
Except for Ted Kennedy’s corpse, who had commandeered a maintenance cart, and driven it into the Potomac.

Typo

After years of failed negotiations, the Iranians suddenly agreed to comprehensive inspections in exchange for the lifting of international sanctions on their battered economy.
Diplomats patted themselves on the back and praised each other… until the press got a hold of the documents.
“This says IKEA, not IAEA!” shouted the Secretary General Of The United Nations. “Who the fuck screwed this one up?”
Everybody stared at the Swedish representative.
“Hey, those IKEA guys are smart,” he said. “Just look what they can do with some wood and Allen wrenches.”
“They can make coffins,” said the Israeli representative, dialing Tel Aviv.

Arby’s

When I was growing up, I loved the Beef And Cheddars at Arby’s, but after a few bad experiences, I haven’t been back in a very long time.
Everybody I ask says the same thing.
They used to go to Arby’s, but they don’t anymore.
“How do they stay open?” someone asks.
So, we checked the web for a store near to our office and drove there for lunch.
There was nobody in there.
We looked around, shouted HELLO, but nobody answered.
That’s when I noticed the crate with Russian stenciled on it.
And a folder full of invasion plans.

Your Mission

After listening to the tape describe a nightmare Doomsday scenario facing the world, Jim listened to his mission, and then pondered whether he should accept it or not.
Before the tape had self-destructed in a whiff of smoke, Jim had made his decision:
No.
Instead, he went fishing, and caught a pair of trout that grilled up nicely.
Finishing his beer, he turned on the television to watch the news.
Just a tone and a test pattern.
It was on every channel.
Jim figured the new regime would probably hire him.
He hoped that his retirement plan would roll over.