Sven, Lars and Ole grew up in the same small town in North Dakota. The three were close friends, and went everywhere together. They walked to school together, they went to bars together, they criss-crossed the town three abreast for many years, until they grew old. Then one day Sven died.
As a legal formality, the coroner called Lars in to identify the body. He pulled back the sheet, and Lars became thoughtful. "Kin ya turn him over fer me?", said Lars. After a moment, the coroner reluctantly complied. "Kin ya kinda spread his cheeks a little bit?", Lars then said. Amazed at the request, the coroner hesitated a moment, then did as requested. Lars looked down and mumbled, "Can't be him."
The coroner wanted to get this over with, so he called in Ole to identify the body. He pulled back the sheet, and Ole looked for a moment and said, "Kin ya turn him over fer me?" The coroner did it. Ole said, "Kin ya spread his cheeks a little bit?" Exasperated, the coroner hastily did so. Ole looked for a moment and said, "Nope, can't be him."
"What do you mean, it's not him?", the coroner shouted. "I've known him for years, and so have you!"
"It yust can't be Sven," Ole said. "All my life, I've heard people say, 'Here comes Sven with those two assholes!'" |
