Three soldiers are huddled in a foxhole, taking heavy fire. After several days, they realize their platoon has left and they're surrounded by the enemy.
"I think this is it, guys," one soldier says. "We're all gonna die. Maybe we should pray."
"Yeah, pray," says the second. "Anyone know how to pray?"
"I do," says the third. "I grew up next door to a church, and there were people coming and going every night of the week, praying for hours at a time. I'll bet I can remember enough to make do."
"All right," says the first soldier, and they all three bow their heads.
The third soldier clears his throat and then says, "B 7. O 63."
"Help, help!" she says, "My husband is on the floor, and he's been shot!"
"Do you know if he's dead?" asked the operator.
"Hold on a second" the woman says. The operator hears her put the phone down, and walking away from the phone. A few seconds later, she hears two gunshots. The phone is picked back up.
Three young boys couldn't find anyone to play with them. They assumed it was because they weren't baptized, so no one wanted to be around them. So, natch, they went to the local church.
The only one there was the janitor.
"Will you baptithe uth?" questioned one of the youths, lithping adorably.
"Sure," said the janitor, tucking the dismembered arm of the pastor inside his closet, and led them to the bathroom, where he baptized them by very solemnly dunking their heads one at a time in the toilet, and only getting a little blood on the porcelain. Thrilled and rather wet, the three boys ran out into the sunshine.
"What do you tink religion we are?" asked one, who inexplicably spoke as though he were Cockney.
"Well," said the youngest, "we're not Catlick cuz we don't believe dere's tree gods in one."
"And we're not Baptist," said the second youngest, "cuz we aren't."
"Wait," said the youngest, "did you smell the water we were baptithed in?"
"Help, help!" she says, "My husband is on the floor, and he's been shot!"
"Do you know if he's dead?" asked the operator.
"Hold on a second" the woman says. The operator hears her put the phone down, and walking away from the phone. A few seconds later, she hears two gunshots. The phone is picked back up.
"Yes, he's dead" says the woman.
Three young boys couldn't find anyone to play with them. They assumed it was because they weren't baptized, so no one wanted to be around them. So, natch, they went to the local church.
The only one there was the janitor.
"Will you baptithe uth?" questioned one of the youths, lithping adorably.
"Sure," said the janitor, tucking the dismembered arm of the pastor inside his closet, and led them to the bathroom, where he baptized them by very solemnly dunking their heads one at a time in the toilet, and only getting a little blood on the porcelain. Thrilled and rather wet, the three boys ran out into the sunshine.
"What do you tink religion we are?" asked one, who inexplicably spoke as though he were Cockney.
"Well," said the youngest, "we're not Catlick cuz we don't believe dere's tree gods in one."
"And we're not Baptist," said the second youngest, "cuz we aren't."
"Wait," said the youngest, "did you smell the water we were baptithed in?"
"Yah..."
"So what does that make us?"
"Pisscopalian!"