The world's greatest and most famous orchestral conductor is conducting his symphony orchestra when he makes a very small mistake.The orchestra doesn't notice it, because they all know the piece by memory anyway, and the audience doesn't notice, because frankly, who in the general public has the faintest clue what orchestral conductors actually do anyway? But he does notice it and he starts thinking about it. All day and all night he thinks about it and he ends up deciding that it's time to retire. So at the end of his next performance, the crowd is cheering and applauding and throwing roses that they mysteriously had with them, and he taps his little stick on his podium to hush the audience.He says, "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, you have been wonderful. But this has been my last performance. I am announcing my retirement."
There is silence over the audience, then someone at the back yells "Boooo" and soon the entire audience is booing him. He trudges sadly from the stage and begins packing his things. As he is walking out the back door of the theatre, his path is blocked by his short, fat, greedy manager, and his manager's two gorilla-sized bodyguards. "Oh, no you don't." says the manager. "You're far too profitable to be retiring. You're going to keep working."
So the poor guy gets forced into continuing to work, all the while wishing more and more that he could retire and live on a farm somewhere quiet. Eventually, one night he decides that he's had enough. In bed with his wife, he turns to her and says, "Darling, could you please get me a small handgun?"
"Certainly dear. Good night." she replies, and turns over and goes to sleep. The next performance, there he is, and he has the handgun secreted away in his waistcoat pocket. At the end of the performance, the audience is cheering and throwing roses and applauding and all those things, when he taps his little stick on the podium to hush the audience. "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, but this has been my last performance. I am, again, announcing my retirement." he declares. The cello player stands up and exclaims, "You can't be serious!" whereupon the guy whips around and pulls the handgun from his waitscoat pocket, and shoots the cello player dead.
The police arrive and he is arrested and taken away to custody to await trial. The judge comes in and they all rise and all the boring formalities occur. Eventually the judge asks him, "Sir, how do you plead to one count of first degree murder?"
He looks up and says, "Guilty, your honour." The judge then responds, "Are you aware that the penalty for murder in this state is death by electrocution?" The guy thinks for a minute, but then decides that death would be better than this horrible excuse for a life, so he says, "Yes, your honour." He is sentenced to death and returned to prison to await his execution.
The day comes around and the guards arrive at his cell. "Time to go." they say, and escort him to the execution chamber. They sit him down in the chair and one of them says, "Well, you may make one last request before you die. What would you like?" He looks around and thinks for a moment. "A silver platter," he says, "with a dozen bananas on it." They bring him this and he eats each of the bananas, one by one. When he's finished they take the platter away and strap him into the chair, then connect the electrodes to him and leave the room.
They throw the switch and he twitches in the chair for a moment, then they shut it off again. He blinks a few times and looks around, still alive. "Well," say the guards, "you've survived the electric chair and the law says we have to let you go."
“Oh," he says, "right, ho!" But as he's walking out of the building, his path is blocked by his short, fat manager and his manager's two gorilla sized bodyguards. "Oh, no you don't, fellah." says the manager. He ends up being forced to work again. Against his will, he continues to perform as he is desperate to retire. One night he decides he's had enough, and whilst in bed with his wife, he says, "Darling, could you get me a hand grenade?" "Of course, dear." she says, and turns over and goes to sleep.
The next performance, there he is with the hand grenade tucked into his undies. At the end of the performance, he taps his stick thing on the podium to hush the audience, who are cheering and applauding and throwing roses. "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, but this is it. I'm sick of the industry, so I'm retiring. Good night." he says, and with that he pulls the grenade from his pants, pulls the key out with his hand, and hurls the grenade into the audience. It explodes and kills twenty-one people. The police arrive very soon and he's taken away to custody to await his trial. The day comes around and he wanders into the courtroom.
The judge looks down at him quizzically. "Didn't I sentence you to death a few months back?" the judge asks him. He shrugs. "All right," says the judge, continuing, "how do you plead to twenty-one counts of first degree murder?"
"Guilty on all counts," he responds. "Electrocute me, damnit." So he goes back to prison and awaits his execution. Meanwhile the prison hires a local electrician to come in and adjust the chair, to put three times the current through its occupant. The day of his execution comes up and the guards arrive at his cell in the morning. "It's time." they say unceremoniously, and escort him to the execution building. They sit him down in the chair and say, "Well, you've got one last request again. What do you want this time?" He looks around thoughtfully. "A silver platter with two dozen bananas on it." he says. "Ah," they say, and bring him the platter of bananas. He eats them all, and when he's finished, they take the platter back, strap him in, and connect the electrodes.
They leave the room and flick the switch. He jerks around and appears to be dead, so they switch it off and come in to check. "He's still alive!" exclaims one of the guards after checking his pulse. When he comes to, they say, "Well, you survived the chair again, and we have to let you go." As he's walking out of the building, though, there in the doorway stands, you guessed it, his short, fat manager and his manager's two gorilla-sized bodyguards. "Back to work, son." says the manager brightly.
Now he continues having to work against his will in a job he now hates. He's sick of it and wants to retire. One night, he says to himself, "That's it. The hell with this." Whilst in bed with his wife, he turns to her and says, "Darling, could you get me a rocket launcher?" "Sure, dear." says his wife, and turns over and goes to sleep.
He doesn't even wait for the next performance to start. "FROG YOU ALL!" he screams, and fires the rockets into the various sections of the orchestra, killing all 139 members, including the new cello player. This time the army arrives and carts him away to a maximum security ward. He awaits his trial. The day comes up and he is taken in manacles to the courtrom. The judge stares down at him. He stares back up at the judge. "You're supposed to be DEAD!" yells the judge. The guy just shrugs. "Very well," says the judge, regaining his composure, "how do you plead to one hundred, thirty-nine counts of first degree murder?"
"Guilty on all counts," exclaims the guy. "Those bastards deserved it!"
He's sentenced to death and taken away to the maximum security wing of the prison again to await the big day. As he's waiting in the dull little cell, a team of technicians are working feverishly to reroute a sizable proportion of the city's power grid straight through the chair. Meanwhile, the public are informed of a temporary impending power shortage via the media. The preparations are eventually complete and the day finally comes.
The guards arrive at his cell.
"Yes, yes, I know the drill." he says, and they escort him to the execution building.
They sit him down in the chair and say, "Well, what do you want for your last request?"
"A silver platter," he begins, "...with three dozen bananas on it?" finish the guards. "Like this one?"
"Yes," he says, "that will do nicely." So he eats each of the bananas, one by one, and about an hour or so later they take the finished platter away and begin strapping him into the chair They check the bonds carefully, and connect all the electrodes. Then they leave the room, lock the door, evacuate the building and throw the switch by remote control from some two kilometres away. The whole execution building of the prison explodes and once the dust has settled they begin sifting through the wreckage for his ruined body.
They find it and prepare it for his burial. His funeral day comes soon after. However, as the pallbearers are carrying the coffin down the aisle, women faint as he climbs out, alive! He is immediately rushed to a press conference. One reporter stands up and says, "Steve Johnson, Daily Inquiring Gazette. Sir, you've survived three counts of the electric chair. What do you have to say for yourself?"
The guy shrugs. "I've tried telling people before," he says, "I'm just a bad conductor."
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