What's the Point?
So I says, "What's the point?"
The baker looks at me and says, "Ye' want a Danish or not?"
And I say, "No, I'm not very fond of Denmark thank you very much. I would much rather have a pastry similar to a bagel with no hole."
The baker stares at me oddly, "You mean a Danish."
I looked at him oddly as well, "No. I mean what I said. I don't like Denmark. The Little Mermaid? Terrible book."
The baker sighed, "Okay. I'll see what we have in the back."
As he walked into the back of the bakery I pulled down my pants and left a "surprise" on the counter."
He came out of the back with a Danish in his hand, "What the-? Why did you crap on my counter?"
I reply, "Well, I don't have any money and I figure you could sell that on eBay for 5-6 bucks."
He lifts one eyebrow, "Sir, why would I sell your feces on eBay?"
I give him a "you're stupid" look, "Duh! I'm gonna be a famous singer. Retarded..."
He again gives me an odd look, "But it's crap. Poop. Feces. Why would anyone buy that?"
I say, "Same reason people bought the 'Mona Lisa', 'Starry Night', or 'The Last Supper'; it's a masterpiece!"
He raises his voice, "Sir, your feces is not a masterpiece!"
I raise the pitch of my voice slightly, "What do you mean? It's my greatest creation!"
He's like, "I'm not gonna sell it."
I start to plead, "Please! I have a baggie to put it in and everything!"
He stops me short, "No... way..."
I start to reason, "Okay, maybe not eBay but what about e-Harmony?"
He looks at me oddly yet again, "Are you asking me to date your poop?"
I look at him coolly and winked, "You guys do have great chemistry. And I've seen the way you look at her."
He looks at me like I'm crazy, "Whaat??? No! She- I mean it is a piece of poop. Not a 'she'."
I wink again, "Y'know, she used to be a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader."
He starts to shout, "No! How was she a cheerleader? You crapped her out five minutes ago!"
I wink yet again, "Take it from me, the sex is great"
He still is screaming, "Sex? Where's the hole? Nevermind. Just no. I am not gonna date your feces."
I look at him with one eyebrow up in a cool way, "C'mon. Let's be adults here. You've had to have sex with a few bagels here and there."
The baker starts to calm down slightly, "No. I don't even have bagels. I have Danishes."
I'm still looking at him coolly, "Ah... You got a thing for Danish girls, eh? I like Easter Europeans myself but whatever floats your boat."
He gets infuriated again, "I mean the food; Danishes! Not Danish people! You imbecile... You moron!"
I keep my composure, "So with Danish girls; is the sex good? I've never tapped any myself if you know what I mean. Eh? Eh?"
The baker continues to scream, "No! I don't know what you mean! I've never slept with any Danish girls!"
I reply, "But did you want to?"
He gets flustered, "Uh... I don't know. I guess. Just pay me for the Danish and leave."
I try to haggle him, "How about we compromise. I pee in a cup and give it to you as a gift and you give me the bagel without a hole."
His ambivalence was showing, "Umm... Maybe. Just get out of here."
I smiled, "Great. I gotta warn you; it may come out green."
He began to shout for the billionth time, "Why? Did you accidentally drink arsenic or something?"
I looked at him like he was retarded, "Uh, no. It was a gift."
He replied dumbfounded, "In which world does that make sense?"
I looked at him methodically, "In the World.... of Warcraft."
His anger turned to a straight face, "That doesn't make any sense at all."
I raised an eyebrow, "Or does it?"
He stretched his words out, "No. It doesn't. You know what, this Danish is on me. Just take it."
I said, "Thanks" as I walked out the door.
When I walked outside it was raining urine.
Alternative version[edit | edit source]
So I says, "What's the point?"
The baker looks at me and says, "That is an important abstract philosophical question that great thinkers have called the issue of the 'Summum Bonum' or the greatest good, the end of all ends. For example, you have come here to get a Danish. Why do you want a Danish? Is it because Danishes are good in themselves or because they are a means to some other end, like eating, and in that case, why eat? Why not starve yourself to death? It's been done before. But you want to live so you want to eat so you want a Danish. But living, like eating and like the Danish is also only a means and not an end. What is your ultimate end? What are you living for?"
So I says, "Just give me a freaking Danish."
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