A missionary who had spent years showing a tribe of natives how to farm and build things to be self-sufficient gets word that he is to return home.
He realizes that the one thing he never taught the natives was how to speak English, so he takes the chief and starts walking in the forest. He points to a tree and says to the chief, "This is a tree." The chief looks at the tree and grunts, "Tree."
The missionary is pleased with the response.
They walk a little farther and the padre points to a rock and says, "This is a rock." Hearing this, the chief looks and grunts, "Rock." The padre is really getting enthusiastic about the results when he hears a rustling in the bushes.
As he peeks over the top, he sees a couple in the midst of heavy sexual activity. The padre is really flustered and quickly responds, "Riding a bike."
The chief looks at the couple briefly, pulls out his blow gun and kills them.
The padre goes ballistic and yells at the chief that he has spent years teaching the tribe how to be civilized and kind to each other, so how could he just kill these people in cold blood that way?
A shipwreck survivor washes up on the on the beach of an island and is immediately surrounded by a group of native warriors.
“I’m done for!” he cries in despair.
“No you are NOT!” - comes a booming voice from all around him. “Listen carefully son, and do exactly what I say. Grab the spear from the man on your left use it to stab their chief in the heart.”
The man grabbed the spear and in a strength born of panic he stabbed the chief, who collapses, dead.
The remainder of the tribe stare at him in disbelief. You could hear a pin drop a 100 feet away.
“Now what???” - the man asked the voice.
And the booming voice answers: “NOW, my son, you’re done for.”
One dark night in Dublin, a fire started inside the local chemical plant. In the blink of an eye, it exploded into massive flames. The alarm went out to all the fire departments for miles around. When the firefighters appeared on the scene, the chemical company president rushed to the fireman in charge and said, "All our secret formulas are in the vault in the center of the plant. They must be saved. I will give 50,000 pounds to the fire department that brings them out intact."
But the roaring flames held the firefighters off. Soon more fire departments had to be called in as the situation became desperate. As the firemen arrived, the president shouted out that the offer was now 100,000 pounds to the fire station who could bring out the company's secret files. But still, the firefighters could not get through.
From the distance, a lone siren was heard as another fire truck came into sight. It was the nearby rural township volunteer fire brigade, composed mainly of old men over 65. To everyone's amazement, that little run-down fire engine roared right past all the newer sleek engines that were parked outside the plant. Without even slowing down it drove straight into the middle of the inferno.
Outside, the other firemen watched as the old timers jumped off right in the middle of the fire and fought it back on all sides. It was a performance and effort never seen before. Within a short time, the old timers had extinguished the fire and had saved the secret formulas. The grateful chemical company president announced that for such a superhuman feat he was upping the reward to 200,000 pounds and walked over to personally thank each of the brave firefighters.
The local TV station caught the thank you on film and asked the chief, "What are you going to do with all that money?"
"Well," said Paddy, the 70-year-old fire chief, "the first thing we're gonna do is fix the brakes on that bloody fire truck."
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."