The Caller

One day a guy dies and winds up in hell. As he is wallowing in despair, he has his first meeting with the devil... Satan: Why so glum? Guy: Why do you think? I'm in hell! Satan: Hell's not so bad. We actually have a lot of fun down here. You a drinking man? Guy: Sure, I love to drink. Satan: Well you're gonna love Mondays then. On Mondays, all we do is drink. Whiskey, tequila, beer, soft drinks, you name it! We drink till we throw up, and then we drink some more. And you don't have to worry about hangovers because you're dead anyway. Guy: Gee, that sounds great! Satan: You a smoker? Guy: You better believe it! Satan: All right! You're gonna love Tuesdays. We get the finest cigars from all over the world and smoke our lungs out. If you get cancer -- no biggie, you're already dead, remember? Guy: Wow... that's awesome! Satan: I bet you like to gamble. Guy: Why, yes. As a matter of fact, I do. Satan: Cause Wednesdays you can gamble all you want. Craps, blackjack, roulette, poker, slots, and Kino. If you go bankrupt, you're dead anyway. Guy: "Coo-oool!" Satan: What about drugs? Guy: Are you kidding? Love drugs! You don't mean... Satan: That's right! Thursday is drug day. Help yourself to a great big bowl of crack ... or smack. Smoke a doobie the size of a submarine. You can do all the drugs you want, you're dead, who cares?!?!?! Guy: WOW! I never realized Hell was such a cool place! Satan: You gay? Guy: No ... Satan: Ooooh ... You're gonna HATE Fridays.

A police officer in a small town stopped a motorist who was speeding down Main Street. "But officer," the man began, "I can explain." "Just be quiet," snapped the officer. "I'm going to let you cool your heels in jail until the chief gets back." "But, officer, I just wanted to say..." "And I said to keep quiet! You're going to jail!" A few hours later the officer looked in on his prisoner and said, "Lucky for you that the chief is at his daughter's wedding. He'll be in a good mood when he gets back." "Don't count on it," answered the fellow in the cell. "I'm the groom."

A guy is driving around the back woods of Tennessee and he sees a sign in front of a broken down shanty-style house: "Talking Dog for Sale." He rings the bell and the owner appears and tells him the dog is in the backyard. The guy goes into the backyard and sees a nice looking Labrador retriever sitting there. "You talk?" he asks. "Yep," the dog replies. After the guy recovers from the shock of hearing a dog talk, he says "So, what's your story?" The dog looks up and says, "Well, I discovered that I could talk when I was pretty young. I wanted to help the government, so I told the CIA and they had me sworn into the toughest branch of the armed services ... the United States Marine Corps ... you know one of their nicknames is 'The Devil Dogs'. In no time at all they had me jetting from country to country, sitting in rooms with spies and world leaders; because no one figured a dog would be eavesdropping. I was one of their most valuable spies for eight years running, but the jetting around really tired me out and I knew I wasn't getting any younger. So, I decided to settle down. I retired from the Corps (8 dog years is 56 Corps years) and signed up for a job at the airport to do some undercover security, wandering near suspicious characters and listening in. I uncovered some incredible dealings and was awarded a batch of medals. I got married, had a mess of puppies, and now I'm just retired." The guy is amazed. He goes back in and asks the owner what he wants for the dog. "Ten dollars," the guy says. "Ten dollars? This dog is amazing! Why on earth are you selling him so cheap?" "Because he's a liar. He never did any of that stuff ... He was in the Navy!"