As I’ve been doing the last few Fridays, I want to share another joke from the Archer treasury of bad puns:
The bird lover and the plaid pigeon
Charlie Storch loved birds. He had dedicated his life to the study of birds. But one day he met a bird that he just couldn’t love.
It was the plaid pigeon. A lifetime of ornithology hadn’t prepared Charlie for the sight of the plaid pigeon. And it was love at first sight. Charlie was exploring in the deepest, darkest regions of Iowa when he stumbled upon the nest of the plaid pigeon. This was certainly a rare bird! The bird was colored just like the old couch at Charlie’s grandma’s house and sang a heartwarming song. Charlie trapped the bird and took it home with him.
The bird was quite content in his new home and really seemed to flourish. Too much so, I’m afraid. The bird ate and ate, and the bird grew and grew. By the end of the first week, the bird had doubled in size. By the end of the second week, the bird had doubled in size again. By the end of the third week… well, you get the picture.
The food bill was tremendous. The, err, output was tremendous. And soon the bird wouldn’t fit in Charlie’s house. Charlie had to do something. Rare bird or no, he had to get rid of it.
Charlie borrowed a pickup from a neighbor, but the bird was growing as they went down the road and soon got to big for the truck. Charlie went and rented the largest dump truck he could find. He loaded up the bird and headed for a nearby ridge where he could drop the bird off into the forest.
The truck was groaning under the strain by the time they reached their destination. Charlie pulled the lever to dump the bird and got the surprise of his life. From the back part of the truck, he heard the voice of the plaid pigeon: “Hey, mister, do you know what you’re doing?” the bird called, before commenting…
“It’s a long way to tip a rarey.”
(Note: I used to laugh at this joke as a kid, even though I didn’t know the song. In case you don’t know the song, I’ve included a YouTube video of the original)
Another joke like that and Edward Fudge may have to rethink his theology of eternal torment.