Farm

"No," the farmer said.

The second beau came to the door and said, 'I'm Joe, I'm here to pick up Flo to take her to the show. Is she ready to go?'

"No."

The third beau came to the door and said to the farmer. 'Hello, my name is Chuck.'

The farmer shot Chuck.

Then it stumbled again. He said, "That's twice."

Then later it stumbled a third time. This time, he didn't say anything, just pulled out a shotgun and shot the horse dead.

His wife cried out and started to yell at him. The farmer turned to her and said, "That's once."

He stepped on the gas but at 50 miles per hour. The chicken was still keeping up. After about a mile of running the chicken ran up a farm lane and into a barn behind an old farm house.

The salesman had some time to kill so he turned around and drove up the farm lane. He knocked at the door and when the farmer answered he told him what he had just seen.

The farmer said that he was a geneticist and had developed this breed of chicken because he, his wife and his son each like a drumstick when they have chicken and this way they only have to kill one chicken.

"That's the most fantastic thing I've ever heard," said the salesman. "How do they taste?"

"I don't know," said the farmer. "We've never caught one."

"Sure," said the farmer. "I've got some beans and cornbread on the stove, but I've only got one bed, so you'll have to sleep with me."

The salesman was very grateful. So they had dinner and went to bed early. The salesman was used to keeping late hours and couldn't get to sleep. His tossing and turning was keeping the farmer awake so the farmer finally suggested they play football. The salesman didn't understand.

"Here's how it works," said the farmer. "Everytime you fart, it's a touchdown." The salesman thought it sounded fun, and they started playing. The salesman took an immediate lead, with the farmer struggling to squeeze even one out. Finally he felt one coming on and he strained and grunted and strained and grunted...and let a big wet one rip all over his side of the bed.

"What'll we do now?" exclaimed the salesman.

"Halftime. Switch sides."