A customer enters a pet shop.

Customer: 'Ello, I wish to register a complaint.

(The owner does not respond.)

C: 'Ello, Miss?
Owner: What do you mean "miss"?
C:  I'm sorry, I have a cold.  I wish to make a 
   complaint!
O: We're closin' for lunch.
C: Never mind that, my lad.  I wish to complain about 
   this Mailing list what I joined not half an hour ago 
   at this very cafe.
O: Oh yes, the, uh, the Norwegian Nutty Boy..What's,uh...What's 
   wrong with it?
C: I'll tell you what's wrong with it, my lad. 'it's dead, 
   that's what's wrong with it!
O: No, no, 'e's uh,...it's resting.
C: Look, matey, I know a dead mailing list when I see one, and 
   I'm looking at one right now.
O: No no it's not dead, it's, it's restin'!  Remarkable list, 
   the Norwegian Nutty Boy.  Beautiful plumage!
C: The plumage don't enter into it.  It's stone dead.
O: Nononono, no, no!  'It's resting!
C: All right then, if  it's restin', I'll wake it up!
   'Ello, Mister TMML!  I've got a lovely fresh titbit for you if you show
   Um...now look...now look, mate, I've definitely 'ad enough 
   of this. That list is definitely deceased, and when I 
   purchased it not 'alf an hour ago, you assured me that its 
   total lack of movement was due to it bein' tired and shagged 
   out following a prolonged squawk.
O: Well, it's...it's, ah...probably pining for the fjords.
C: PININ' for the FJORDS?!?!?!?  What kind of talk is that?, 
 I'm not prepared to pursue my line of inquiry any longer as 
   I think this is getting too silly!

Sergeant-Major: Quite agree, quite agree, too silly, far too 
silly...


Well I thought it was funny!



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