April Fools

Along frivolous fancies of mine, when it comes to holidays, I embrace the pranks of April Fool's Day, second only to the specter of hidden worlds and altered identities integral to Halloween.

April Fool's Day, in my purist mind, should be a day devoted to good natured pranks, light-hearted fun and absurd tales told to the gullible.  Admittedly, for planning and executing a good prank one needs a communal setting so that the prank and most importantly - the reaction, is witnessed by many (and secretly approved by most).  Alas, in my solitary role as self-employed proto-oil tycoon and I am many moons separated from college dorms and high school life (such as it was); April Fools Day has for me lost its underpinnings found in the needed and necessary communal setting.

But in honor of light-hearted fun and a good story, I offer a few lines that continue to amuse me in place of pulling an elaborate prank.

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When the midget fortune teller escaped from police custody the authorities notified the populace that they were looking for a small medium at large.

     While a noted Fort Worth art Museum had an exhibition of works by very famous Impressionist painters on display, the curators were shocked to discover that a number of priceless paintings had been stolen in broad daylight.  The police were quickly called, and they soon apprehended the art thief only a few blocks from the museum.  Under questioning, the suspect admitted to his crime, but the police still wanted to know how such a meticulously planned art heist was so cleverly executed so as to escape the notice of tight museum security, only to be apprehended just a short distance away on the city streets.
     The art thief explained, "I did not have enough Monet to buy Degas to make the Van Gogh."

     Times are particularly tough in Ireland.  O'Leary, the village n'er-do-well came to the church and asked Father Shillelagh for some money.  Father Shillelagh, suspicious that O'Leary would take the precious parish money and spent it on pints in the pub; offered O'Leary a job of putting a needed fresh coat of paint on the church building in order to get some good out of O'Leary rather than provide merely alms to be guzzled.  O'Leary, thanked Father Shillelagh for the paying job, but then told the reverend that he would of course need some money to buy some paint.
     Father Shillelagh, against his better judgement, open the parish funds and gave O'Leary enough money to buy paint since he could not argue with O'Leary's logic.  O'Leary quickly went and bought only half the amount of paint needed to do the job, but with the money left over, he stepped into the pub and spent the rest of the money on whiskey.  O'Leary filled his now empty whiskey bottles with water and proceeded to dilute the paint with water until he had enough buckets of paint to cover the entire church.  Father Shillelagh was surprised and pleased to see O'Leary finish the job and then paid him for his work.
     But as it is wont to so often do in Ireland, it soon began to rain.  And the rain quickly washed off the diluted paint from the church walls.  Father Shillelagh realized he had been fooled by O'Leary.
     Come Sunday, O'Leary shuffled into church with his fellow parishioners, but Father Shillelagh grabbed O'Leary by the collar and thumped him and gave him this command: Repaint you Thinner!

Why did the monkey fall out of the tree?
Because it was dead.