Death in the cathedral

Bard

emailed to me today.... got a groan... you'll see why...

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After Quasimodo's death, the bishop of the Cathedral of Notre Dame sent
word through the streets of Paris that a new bell ringer was needed. The
bishop decided that he would conduct the interviews personally and went up
into the belfry to begin the screening process.

After observing several applicants demonstrate their skills, he had decided
to call it a day. Just then, an armless man approached him and announced
that he was there to apply for the bell ringer's job.

The bishop was incredulous. "You have no arms!". "No matter," said the man.
"Observe!" And he began striking the bells with his face, producing a
beautiful melody on the carillon. The bishop listened in astonishment;
convinced he had finally found a replacement for Quasimodo.

But suddenly, rushing forward to strike a bell, the armless man tripped and
plunged headlong out of the belfry window to his death in the street below.

The stunned bishop rushed to his side.

When he reached the street, a crowd had gathered around the fallen figure,
drawn by the beautiful music they had heard only moments before. As they
silently parted to let the bishop through, one of them asked, "Bishop, who
was this man?".

"I don't know his name," the bishop sadly replied, "but his face rings a
bell."

WAIT! WAIT! There's more . . .


The following day, despite the sadness that weighed heavily on his heart
due to the unfortunate death of the armless campanologist, the bishop
continued his interviews for the bell ringer of Notre Dame.

The first man to approach him said, "Your Excellency, I am the brother of
the poor armless wretch that fell to his death from this very belfry
yesterday. I pray that you honour his life by allowing me to replace him in
this duty.".

The bishop agreed to give the man an audition, and, as the armless man's
brother stooped to pick up a mallet to strike the first bell, he groaned,
clutched at his chest, twirled around, and died on the spot.

Two monks, hearing the bishop's cries of grief at this second tragedy,
rushed up the stairs to his side. "What has happened? Who is this man?" the
first monk asked breathlessly. "I don't know his name," sighed the
distraught bishop, but..."


( . . . Wait for it . . . )




(. . . It's worth it. . . )






. . . He's a dead ringer for his brother.

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Bard
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Molly

you should a left it after the first pun

Venom

Groan

Paladin

lol

Mills

I actually liked that one

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I am inflatible !

Cake Fiend

I hereby declare, Bard, if that is in fact your real name, that I shall hunt you down and make sure that you do not leave this earth without having your own intestines forced vigourously down your throat, I swear by the gods...

SickBoy

Brilliant Fantastic