Brenda O'Malley is home making dinner, as usual,
when Tim Finnegan arrives at her door.
"Brenda, may I come in?" he asks.
"I've somethin' to tell ya".
"Of course you can come in, you're always welcome, Tim.
But where's my husband?"
"That's what I'm here to be telling ya, Brenda."
There was an accident down at the Guinness brewery..."
"Oh, God no!" cries Brenda. "Please don't tell me." "I must, Brenda. Your husband Shamus
is dead and gone. I'm sorry.
Finally, she looked up at Tim.
"How did it happen, Tim?"
"It was terrible, Brenda. He fell into a vat
of Guinness Stout and drowned."
"Oh my dear Jesus! But you must tell me truth, Tim.
Did he at least go quickly?"
"Well, Brenda... no. In fact,
he got out three times to pee."
What we've got here is failure to communicate. Some men you just can't reach, so you get what we had here last week which is the way he wants it. Well, he gets it.
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