A little boy is sitting by the roadside crying.
A passerby comes along, crouches down, and asks: “Hey, boy, what’s wrong? Why are you crying like that?”
“My dad…”, sobbed the boy, “he d*ed this morning.”
The man replied: “Oh, how ter-rible. What happened?”
“It was an accident in the attic,” the boy explained through tears. “He was putting up a shelf, slipped off the ladder, and in falling pulled the heavy metal shelf down with him. It then crashed, along with its wall anchors, straight through the ceiling into the floor below.”
“Oh my God,” said the man, “and that k*lled him?”
“No, he managed to grab hold of the heating pipe at the last moment. But his weight ripped the pipe out of the wall and caused it to burst. The boiling hot water flooded the entire parquet floor on the upper floor and short-circuited the electrical system, causing a fire to bre@k out in the house.”
The man holds his head: “Good heavens! Has he pe-ris-hed in the flames?”
“Not that either,” the boy sobbed. “He jumped out of the window while on fire, but crashed into the wooden patio roof as he fell, which then completely collapsed and shattered the conservatory windows. Then he rolled into the pool to put out the fire.”
“And then he dr0-wned in the pool?” the man asked desperately.
The boy wiped his nose and shook his head: “No, he was just trying to crawl back out and had laboriously pulled himself up on the gas pipe of the outdoor kitchen. You could already hear the metal bending and the gas hissing…”
The man stared at him in disbelief: “And then there was an expl0sion that k*lled him?”
“No,” says the boy, “then Mom sh0t him so he wouldn’t destroy any more of the house.”
