The Parrot Died

At dawn the telephone rings.

"Hello, Senor Lucky? This is Ernesto the caretaker at your country house."

"Ah yes, Ernesto. What can I do for you? Is there a problem?"

"Um, I am just calling to advise you, Senor, that your parrot died."

"My parrot? Dead? The one that won the International competition?"

"Si, Senor, that's the one."

"Damn! That's a pity! I spent a small fortune on that bird."

"What did he die from?"

"From eating rotten meat, Senor"

"Rotten meat? Who the hell fed him rotten meat?"

"Nobody, Senor. He ate the meat of the dead horse."

"Dead horse? What dead horse?"

"Your thoroughbred, Senor Lucky. Your thoroughbred died from all that work pulling the water cart."

"Are you insane? What water cart?"

"The one we used to put out the fire, Senor"

"Good Lord! What fire are you talking about, man?"

"The one at your house, Senor! A candle fell and the curtains caught on fire."

"What the.....!!! But there's electricity at the house!!! What was the candle for?"

"For the funeral, Senor."

"WHAT BLOODY FUNERAL?!"

"Your wife's, Senor... She showed up one night out of the blue and I thought she was a thief, so I hit her with your new Tiger Woods Nike Driver."

SILENCE...................

"Ernesto....... if you broke that driver, you're in deep, deep, shit..!"