Thursday, September 23, 2010

It's called committing to the joke

Jack called me at work today.

"Hey," he said, in a business-like tone. "I talked to the banker and the banker said..."

"No more monkeys jumping on the bed?" I interrupted playfully.

"Yeah," he laughed, "the banker said 'no more monkeys jumping on the bed.'"

I burst into laughter.

"Oh my gosh, Jack," I began enthusiastically. "It would be SO FUNNY if the banker really did call and you were like, 'Hello?' and he was like 'Hello, this is the banker.' and you were like 'Yes Mr. Banker, what can I do for you?'"

"Uh..." Jack tried to interrupt.

"...And the banker was like 'I'm just calling to tell you there should be no more monkeys jumping on the bed,' and you were like 'Really, Mr. Banker?' and he was like 'Absolutely. It's dangerous for both you and the monkeys," and you're like 'Why thank you for the good advice, Mr. Banker,' and then you hung up,"

"Alright honey, but..." Jack started.

"And THEN," I continued, "you called me, and you were like 'Mandy, I talked to the banker and the banker said...' and I interrupted you and said 'No more monkeys jumping on the bed!' but I was kidding about it and then you were like 'Actually, that IS what the banker said,'"

"But..."

"...and I was like 'Whaaaa? The banker really said that? That's CRAZY!' And you were like 'It IS crazy, isn't it?' HAHAHAHA!! HA! HAHAHA! Wouldn't that be funny Jack? HAHA! Jack?"

[Silence]

"Okay, Jack, I'm ready to be serious now," I told him. "What did the banker really say?"

"Never mind," he said, defeated. "I totally forgot what I was going to tell you."
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