by Allan Cole
The Scene:
Mahoney laughed. Sten, more than familiar with situations when sudden merriment sans joke were required, also laughed.
"Fine, Ian. If we're telling old stinkers, here's one of Kilgour's. After all these years I'm even getting pretty good with his dialect."
As his mouth began the words to the half-remembered joke, Sten forbade himself a guilty look back over his shoulder at Arundel Castle... and concentrated on jokes, obscene, Scots, stupid.
*****
The Joke:
"Hae Ah e'er told y' ae th' time Ah entered a limerick contest? Y' ken whae lim'ricks are, aye?"
"We're not totally uncivilized."
"Thae's bonnie. Twas whae Ah was a wee striplin't, assigned t' a honor guard on Earth. Th' tabs announc'd thae contest. Large credits f r th' prize. Who c'd come up wi' thae dirtiest, filthiest, lim'rick?
"Well, Ah hae braw experience when it com ft' dirty, filthy lim'ricks."
"I've never questioned that."
"Ah'm payin't nae heed nor reck f thae cheap one, Major. So Ah ship't m' filthy poem away, an aye, 'twas so filthy e'en a striplin't like m'self blushed a bit, thinkin't m' name wae attach't.
"But thae credits wae bonny, as Ah've said. An' lord know't a puir wee ranker needs a' th' coin he can secure. So time pass't an' time pass't, an' then one day Ah sees th' tab, an' Ah'm thunderstrick!
"Ah'm noo th' winner! Ah hae nothin'! Th' winner's some clot nam'd McGuire. D. M. McGuire, ae' th' wee isle ae Eire, they name't it, frae th' city ae Dublin. An' th' lim'rick's so dirty thae cannae e'en run thae own prizewinner!
"An a'ter Ah recover frae m' heartbroke, it starts gnawin't ae me. I mean, thae cannae be a filthier lim'rick thae whae Ah submitt'd.
"So Ah taki't a wee bit ae leave, an Ah moseys t' Eire, an' thae cap'tal ae Dublin, an' Ah begins lookin't frae D. M. McGuire. Days an' weeks pass, aye, but finally Ah trackit doon th' last McGuire i' Dublin.
"She's a wee gran lady. Sweet, wi' a twinkle i' her eye, an' a smile ae her lips, an' y' jus' know she's goin ft' church ever' day, twice't, an' thae's nae been a foul word cross her lips.
"This cannae be th' D. M. McGuire ae the contest, but Ah'm des'prate. So I screws m' courage t' th' stickity point, an' asks.
"Dam't near crap m' kilt, when she says, 'Aye. Ah am.' "Ah begs her f'r whae it was.
"I's noo her turn t' blush, an' she say't 'Ah'm a respect'ble widow. Ah cannae use language like thae around a man.'
"She talk't funny, she did. 'Twae hard f' me t' understand her, sometime.
"Ah ask't her to write it doon, e'en. But she cannae do thae, e'er. Thae must be the scummiest poem e'er wrote. So Ah argue, an' argue, an' plea, an' finally she say't, 'Cannae Ah tell it, but wi' blankety frae th' vile words?'
"A course, Ah says. AMI hae nae grief figurin't it oot frae there. "An' she tak't ae deep breath, an' recites:
"Blankety-blankety blank
Blankety-blankety blank
Blankety-blank
Blankety-blank
Blankety river of shit."
After a long silence... a giggle. Alex beamed. "Ah knoo frae th' first thae wae someat aboot y' Ah admired. Noo thae's three."
*****
From The Alex Kilgour Toxic Scrapheap
The Background:
When this joke was told to us Chris and I were on the floor. We tucked it aside for a definite Kilgour joke candidate. But when the time came we disagreed on whether it should go in. Chris thought it was a great joke, but only as a Visual joke. In other words, you had to see the punch line acted out to get the joke. I disagreed. The way we worked the writing partnership was that in any disagreement, the one who did the disagreeing got an automatic 51% vote. Don't laugh. It worked for nearly twenty years. Anyway, here's Cole's Revenge. I get to put it in now and let you be the judge.
The Setup:
Kilgour is appalled - but not surprised - at how much hate is being spewed by warring beings throughout the star-cluster. He tells Sten and Cind that it reminds him of the rivalries he's read about in ancient times, and how one group was always trying to outdo the other, no matter what the circumstances. We didn't get this one in Vortex as planned, but I still think Alex makes a most excellent point.
The Joke:
Three men - an Englishman, a Frenchman an' a bonny Scotsman - crash lain oan a desert islain. In a clottin' flash, they ur captured by savages an' dragged tae th' village camp.
A tall, handsome Chieftain comes out ay a hut an' strides up tae them.
'Gentlemen,' he says. 'I am th' chieftain ay thes tribe.'
"The men ur surprised at his cultured speech an' looks. Th' yoong chieftain laughs at their reactions an' says, "Oh, Ah ken 'at we swatch loch savages haur, An' Ah suppose we ur. An', as ye nae doobt feared, we ur cannibals too.
"The thee men swatch at th' huge cookin' pot steamin' an' boilin' ower a fire in th' center ay th' village. They blanche, afeared.
"The chieftain speaks mair soothingly, noo. 'We main be savages, but we arenae barbarians,' he says. 'Fur example, Ah was educated at th' finest university oan prime warld. But, returned tae spreid whit wee wisdom civilization has tae offer.'
"The thee men ur silent, tryin' tae pit up a brae front. But, they dreid whit is tae come. The yoong chieftain says, 'We ur much closer tae nature than ye. Mair pure, Ah hink.
"'Oh, we will takes yer li'es, 'at is fur certain. But tak' comfort in th' fact 'at nae a body hin' frae yer body will be wasted. We will eat yer flesh, ay coorse. But, also, we will use yer anes fur tools.
"'An' we'll use yer skin as well. We will stretch an' dry yer skins an' make them intae marveloos canoes.'
"Sstill th' men say naethin'. Then th' yoong chieftain draws a huge knife frae his belt.
"'Ain tae prove tae ye further 'at we arenae savages, we will gie ye th' choice ay takin' yer ain li'es - in sic' a way 'at will shaw yer coorage - yer manliness.'
"The Frenchman's bonds ur loosened an' th' chieftain hans heem th' sharp chib. Immediately, th' Frenchman raises th' chib an' shoots, 'Viva la France!' An' he plunges th' chib intae his chest an' collapses, deid. Th' nati'es drag heem tae th' fire an' jobby his body intae th' pot.
The Englishman is next, an' vowin' nae tae be ootdain by th' Frenchman, he raises th' chib high, shootin', 'God Sae Th' Queen' An' he dri'es th' knife deep intae his heart. His body is throon intae th' pot as weel.
Finally, it is th' scotsman's turn. He has bin watchin' aw thes an' thinkin' oan aw th' yoong chieftain has said. So, he rises tae his foo heecht. raises th' chib oan high...
...Then begins tae stab himself aw ower his body, shoutin', Clot yer canoe! clot yer canoe! Clot yer canoe!'"
*****
STEN 8 - Empire's End
The Book:
At last! The explosive finale of Sten's adventures as the Eternal Emperor's most trusted friend, bodyguard, troubleshooter...and assassin! See Sten undertake the ultimate treasure hunt, as he and his comrades seek out the source of the Eternal Emperor's power: Anti-Matter Two. Learn the secret of the Eternal Emperor's past: Who is he? Where did he come from? And how did he become immortal? Watch as the loyal Sten turns traitor at last, turning on the Eternal Emperor to save his own skin...and the Empire itself! Eternity is doomed to end. And if Sten has his way, it will end sooner than later!
The Setup:
The Eternal Emperor has gone around the bend. Mad as the proverbial mercury-soaked hatter. He's decided Sten is his worst enemy and is hunting him down with everything he's got. Sten, naturally, only runs so far. Then turns back to take on history's mightiest ruler. As always, Alex is at his side to slay bad guys, run the crew, and lighten the mood when all the world is going to drakh.
The Joke:
Are y’ religious, lass?"
"Nossir. But my crèche was."
"Then th’ fable be e’en closer’t’ y’r heart. Seems thae was a man. Nae a puir man, nae a laird. But he’s livin’t i’ a wee house, an’ he dinnae like it, but he canna fin’ t
h’ money frae a bigger one.
"So he hears aboot a wise man. Ver’, ver’ wise, he is. An he determines’t’ consult thae’ wise man.
"Bein’t wise, a’ course it’s a’t’rble journey’t’ find him. But eventually our hero climbs’t’ th’ top ae th’ mountain where th’ magi hangi’t his beanie, an’ he pleads, ‘Great One, what c’n Ah do? M’ house i’ wee an’ Ah canna stand it.’
"Th’ wise man thinks, an’ asks, ‘Hae y’ a coo?’
" ‘A coo?’
" ‘Aye, a coo."
" ‘Aye, Ah hae a braw Hereford.’
" ‘Move it i’ y’r house.’
"An’ th’ wise man refus’t’t’ say more, i’ spite ae th’ man’s pleadin’t an’ cryin’t. So th’ man goes back home, an’ aye, it’s e’en more a’t’rble trek.
"An’ he’s thinkit, an wonderin’t, but he knows th’ wise man’s truly wise, an’ so he moves his coo in’t’ sleep wi’ him. An’ his wee house is e’en wee-er.
"An’ he canna stand it. So he goes back, ’t’rble journey thae it is, all th’ way’t’ th’ wise man, an’ again asks th’ question.
"Th’ wise man thinks, an’ then he says, ‘Hae y’ a goat?’
" ‘A goat?’
" ‘Aye, a goat.’
" ‘Ah hae a goat.’
"Move it i’ th’ house, too.’
"An’ once again, th’ wise man refuse’t say more.
"So th’ man, noo puzzled sorely, wander’t back’t’ his wee home, an’ thinkit. But ‘cause th’ sage i’ truly wise, he move th’ goat i’ wi’ him an’ th’ coo."An’ noo he truly canna stand it, f’r his house is e’en smaller."So again, he goes back’t’ th’ wise man, an’ asks f r help, sayin’t ‘Ah hae a wee house, noo wi’ a coo an’ a goat i’ it, an’ i’s bleedin’ crowded, an’ Ah canna stand it.’
"An’ th’ wise man think’t, an’ then he says, ‘Hae y’ chickens?’ ‘Chickens?’ ‘Aye, chickens.’ ‘Aye, Ah hae chickens.’
" ‘Move ‘em i’ th’ house. Come’t’ ponder, i’ y’ hae ducks, an’ swans, an’ pigs, hae them i’ the house ae well.’
"An’ despite th’ man’s pleadin’, th’ wise man sayit noo more.
"But th’ man goes back home, an’ puts th’ chickens in th’ house. An’ noo i’s worse, i’s so bad i’s intolerable. Thae’s no room left i’ th’ house f’r th’ man, i’s so crowded.
"An’ he journeys back yet again’t’ th’ wise man, an’ says, ‘Ah canna stand it! M’ wee house hae naught but animals i’ it, an’ there’s noo room ae all f’r me! Noo, Ah’m pleadin’t, help me!’
"An’ th’ wise man sayit, ‘Go home, an’ take all th’ animals oot ae th’ house.’
"An’ thae’s all he’ll say.
"An' th’ man rush’t home, an’ clear oot all th’ animals, an’ y’ ken whae he discovered? He still hae a wee house. But noo it’s entire full ae animal shit!"
*****
The Setup:
It's near the end of the book - and the series. Sten is being pressured to take the throne that the Eternal Emperor was forced to vacate - fatally, and by Sten. As always, Alex has more than a few words of wisdom to add to the mix.
The Joke:
"I just wonder," Sten said, "if anybody ever knows when that time is? Or," he said, being as honest as he knew how, "if every time somebody gets offered a crown, he always thinks that he’s taking it just for universal good?"
The chamber was silent, very silent, as silent as the icy, frozen night outside.
"Ah dinnae knoo aboot thae," Alex said, finally. "Thae’s Philosophy, an’ thae’s noo Scots sol’jer permitted’t’ think ae that, ‘r thae toss him oot ae th’ pub an’ make him’ drink piss wi’ th’ Brits.
"But Ah hae a wee tale. Call i’ a par’ble, i’ y’ wish.
"Thae wae a mon. Always wanted’t’ prove himself, aye? An’ he hears thae’ th’ mos’ fearsome sort ae huntin’ i’ on Earth. Ae a wee island, i’ a north’ ae froze ae Vi.
"Huntin’ th’ bear. Cind, thae’s a—"
"I know what a bear is. You’ve called Otho one enough times. GA," she said.
"A’right. So, he goes oot i’ th’ forest, wi’ a rifle, an’ a sharp eye. An’ sooner come later, he spots th’ bear. Binga-banga-bonga he shoots, an’ th’ bear goes’t doon.
"An’ he bounds o’er, an’ to his vast sur’prise an’ dismay, thae’s noo bear.
"Tap tap on th’ shoulder, an’ thae’s th’ bear! An’ th’ bear growls, an’ says, 'If y’ wan’’t’ live, y’ll be giein’ doon ae y’r nan’s an’ knees an’ committin’ a disgustin’ sexual act ae m’ bod’.
"An’ th’ hunter goes eech an’ ech an’ och, but th’ bear’s fangs ate braw, an’ his claws are great. An’ he goes doon ae his knees…
"Noo, when he gies back’t’ his camp, he’s fill’t wi’ disgust. Wi’ loathin’. He’s aboot’t’ suicide. But first, he thinks, Ah’ll hae th’ skin ae thae bear!
"An’ next mornin, he goes oot’t’ th’ forest agin, an’ pret’ quick, he spots th’ bear. An’ its bompa-bompa-bompa, an’ agin’ th’ bear goes doon.
"An’ th’ hunter goes clip-cloppin’t’ th’ site, knowin’ he hae th’ revenge… but thae’s no bear.
"Tap tap on th’ shoulder… an’ thae’s bear! Loonrin’t o’er him!
"An’ th’ bear says, T y’ be wantin’ y’r life, y’ll be disrobin’t, an’ turnin’t aroun’, an’ Ah’ll be performin’t a revoltin’ sexual act wi’ y’!’
"An’ yeesh an’ bleah an’ yargh, but th’ bear’s claws are braw, an’ his teeth are great An’ so th’ hunter drops hi’ trews…
"Thae’s it. Thae’s all. Th’ hunter slink’t back’t’ camp. He feels worsen’ a Campbell. H’s th’ lowest ae Th’ low. Killin’ himself i’ th’ best fate he c’d dream of."But firs’… th’ bear mus’ die! Wi’ oot fail, wi’oot question.
"An’ so, th’ next morn, just ae dawn, th’ hunter’s oot i’ the woods. An’ agin he sees th’ bear. An’ again he raises his rifle. An agin i’s blastawayblastawayblastaway all. An’ agin’ th’ bear goes doon."An’ agin’ th’ hunter rushes oop.
"An’ agin’, thae’s noo clottin’ bear!
"But agin, thae’s a tap tap on th’ shoulder.
"An’, knowin’t whae he’s aboot’t’ see, th’ hunter turns aroun’. An’ thae’s th’ bear!
"An’ th’ bear eyes him up ‘n down, an’ says, ‘Lad, y’ dinnae coom f r th’ huntin’ noo did y’?"
*****
The Missing Jokes:
Kathryn and I looked everywhere for the following jokes. We even enlisted the help of an avid Sten reader and friend, Frank Gessel, but to no avail. Somewhere - I swear - these jokes are buried in the million plus words that make up the eight Sten novels. If anyone finds them, send an email to [email protected] and let me know so I can update this joke book in a later version. The first person to find any one of them will get a free autographed book.
Anyway, here they are:
Statues In A Park
This one is from the Real Alex Kilgour, in case you can't tell:
"Thaur ur tois statues in a park; The body ay a handsome nude cheil an' th' lovely body ay a nude girl.
"They hud bin facin' each other athwart a pathway fur a hunder years, when one bonny day an angel comes doon frae th' lift an', wi' a single gesture, brings th' tois tae life.
"The angel tells them, 'As a reward fur bein' sae patient ben a hunder blazin' summers an' dismal winters, ye hae bin given life fur thirty minutes tae dae whit yoo've wished tae dae th' most.'
"The boy statue he looks at the girl, she looks at heem, an' they gang runnin' behin' th' shrubbery.
"Th' angel waits patiently as th' bushes rustle an' gigglin' ensues. Efter fifteen minutes , th' tois return, it ay breath an' laughin'.
"The angel tells them, 'um, ye hae fifteen minutes left. Would ye caur tae dae it again?'
"The boy statue asks the girl - 'Shaal we?'
&n
bsp; "She eagerly replies, 'Oh, och aye, let's!
But let's change positions. Thes time, i'll hauld th' wee-pigeon doon an' ye jobby can drakh on its heed.'
*****
The Loveable Duck
A brammer wee dove is strollin' ben th' forest. And, aye, lads an' lassies, she's th' prettiest dove ye hae ever seen in yer born days. Feaithers ay pearly gray. Beak ay silver, ain dainty feit.
Ain she's happy, sae happy as she flutters alang th' path - gonnae pest a huge bramble bush.
Suddenly a big hairy arm shoots out an' grabs in th' brammer dove an' pulls 'er intae th' bushes.
The bushes shake an' shake, an' 'en shake some mair. Finally, th' arm comes out an' gently puts th' bonnie bird back oan th' forest path.
The wee spyug looks up at th' heavens, hugs herself, an' says, "I'm a dove, an' I've bin loved."
Ain aff she goes intae th' forest.
Not much later in th' day a bonnie wee bug comes skitterin' alang th' forest path. It is a brammer bug - th' loveliest in aw th' forest. Wings ay green, coopon ay gold an' a scuttle feit pretty enaw fur ballit slippers.
She hums alang th' forest path - pest 'at huir uv a sam bramble bush. Ain, lo, it comes 'at dreaded arm. Snatchin' 'er up an' pullin' 'er intae th' bushes.
The bushes shake an' shake. 'En shake some mair.
Ein 'en th' arm comes it again an' draps th' bonnie wee bug oan th' path.
She looks up at th' lift, swoonin' wi' delecht, an' she says, "I'm a bug, an' I've bin hugged."
An' aff she goes intae th' forest.
Soon enaw comes anither visitur tae uir forest. It's a bonnie duck, wi' yella' wings, an' brammer bill, an' shapely webbed feit.
As ye micht suspect, th' duck goes pest th' dreaded bramble bush. An' 'at huge hairy arm comes it, grabbin' th' duck an' pullin' it intae th' bushes.
