Have A Good Laugh

They keep pleading and after a while St Peter says, ‘Ok, I’ll tell you what, I’ll let you in, but only if you tell me a good story.’

He says to the first bloke, ‘What’s your story?’

’Well he says, it’s like this.  I’m a policeman, I live on the 23^rd floor of this huge apartment block, I work nights and for some time I’ve known that my wife was having an affair, so this morning instead of coming home at 7 o’clock I came home at 6 o’clock.

I took the lift up to the 23^rd floor, opened the door of the apartment and from the moment I stepped inside I knew there was a fella in there somewhere, as one does. I looked everywhere, in the kitchen, bathroom, spare room, in all the cupboards, under the beds, I looked everywhere but I couldn’t find him.

Finally I went out onto the balcony and there was this bloke in his jocks hanging onto the balcony rail.

That’s when in saw red.

I was livid, so I started punching him and banging on his fingers, but he wouldn’t let go. I’m starting to freak out, so I looked around, grabbed the hammer off my workbench and smashed it down on his fingers. Finally he let go and fell down 23 stories.

However, he landed on some bushes, he was only dazed, he was starting to get up and that’s when I really went crazy. I looked around for something to throw at him when I spotted my bar fridge. I picked it up and heaved it out over the balcony. It landed on top of him and killed him.

However, the reason I’m here is that I got myself so stressed out that I had a heart attack and died.’

St. Peter said that was a good story, let him in through the gate and turned to the second bloke and asked him what his story was.

‘Well, he says, it’s like this.

I live on the 24^th floor of this huge apartment block and every morning around 6 o’clock I get out on the balcony in my jocks and spend half an hour on my exercise bike. I don’t exactly know what happened this morning but the bike suddenly collapsed under me and sent me flying over the rail.

I started falling but had the presence of mind to grab hold of the balcony of the floor below. I was hanging on for grim death, starting to pull myself up when all of a sudden this mad man in a police helmet came out and started belting my fingers. I kept holding on. Next thing I know he’s grabbed a hammer from somewhere and bammo, he’s hitting my fingers with it.

I finally let go and fall down 23 floors and on the way down I reckon I’m a goner. But luckily for me I landed in some bushes. I’m a bit dazed and I’m starting to get up when all of a sudden, whump, a fridge lands on top of me and kills me.’

St. Peter says, ‘That’s a good story you’re in.’ He turns to the third bloke and says, ‘What’s your story? It better be a good one.’

The third bloke says, ‘There I was, naked in a refrigerator.’