[2461] in Humor
HUMOR: JoTD
daemon@ATHENA.MIT.EDU (Sharalee M. Field)
Wed Sep 23 09:02:07 1998
Date: Wed, 23 Sep 1998 08:59:24 -0400
To: humor@MIT.EDU, mowu@MIT.EDU, "MEGallagh@aol.com" <MEGallagh@aol.com>,
wheger@wbc-architects.com,
"kris.m.kelly@us.pwcglobal.com" <kris.m.kelly@us.pwcglobal.com>,
jbran18610@aol.com, dunbar@MIT.EDU, dahv@MIT.EDU, mtsai@bqa.com,
immer@MIT.EDU, jack.gingras@ae.ge.com, tlawlor@palmerdodge.com,
nkahn@gph.com, GDeVoe@rimco.com,
"Jean, Marc (GEAE)" <marc.jean@ae.ge.com>, celia_kent@harvard.edu,
Maryellen Fitzgibbon <mfitzgib@fas.harvard.edu>,
cjwells@fas.harvard.edu,
Cheryl Guarino Buccelli <c_buccelli@harvard.edu>,
leite@fas.harvard.edu
From: "Sharalee M. Field" <sharalee_field@harvard.edu>
Quiche & Drew, this one's for you....
>From: yasha@harari.org
>Date: Tue, 22 Sep 1998 19:55:59 -0400
>
>Bob Hill and his new wife Betty were vacationing in Europe, as it
>happens, near Transylvania. They were driving in a rental car along a
>rather deserted highway. It was late, and raining very hard. Bob could
>barely see 20 feet in front of the car.
>
>Suddenly the car skids out of control! Bob attempts to control the car,
>but to no avail! The car swerves and smashes into a tree.
>
>Moments later, Bob shakes his head to clear the fog. Dazed, he looks
>over at the passenger seat and sees his wife unconscious, with her head
>bleeding! Despite the rain and unfamiliar countryside, Bob knows he has
>to carry her to the nearest phone.
>
>Bob carefully picks his wife up and begins trudging down the road.
>After a short while, he sees a light. He heads towards the light, which
>is coming from an old, large house. He approaches the door and knocks.
>
>A minute passes. A small, hunched man opens the door. Bob immediately
>blurts, "Hello, my name is Bob Hill, and this is my wife Betty. We've
>been in a terrible accident, and my wife has been seriously hurt. Can I
>please use your phone??"
>
>"I'm sorry," replied the hunchback, "but we don't have a phone. My
>master is a doctor; come in and I will get him!"
>
>Bob brings his wife in. An elegant man comes down the stairs. "I'm
>afraid my assistant may have misled you. I am not a medical doctor; I am
>a scientist. However, it is many miles to the nearest clinic, and I have
>had a basic medical training. I will see what I can do. Igor, bring them
>down to the laboratory."
>
>With that, Igor picks up Betty and carries her downstairs, with Bob
>following closely. Igor places Betty on a table in the lab. Bob
>collapses from exhaustion and his own injuries, so Igor places Bob on an
>adjoining table.
>
>After a brief examination, Igor's master looks worried. "Things are
>serious, Igor. Prepare a transfusion." Igor and his master work
>feverishly, but to no avail. Bob and Betty Hill are no more.
>
>The Hills' deaths upset Igor's master greatly. Wearily, he climbs the
>steps to his conservatory, which houses his grand piano. For it is here
>that he has always found solace. He begins to play, and a stirring,
>almost haunting, melody fills the house.
>
>Meanwhile, Igor is still in the lab tidying up. His eyes catch movement,
>and he notices the fingers on Betty's hand twitch, keeping time to the
>haunting piano music. Stunned, he watches as Bob's arm begins to rise,
>marking the beat! He is further amazed as Betty sits straight up!
>
>Unable to contain himself, he dashes up the stairs to the conservatory.
>
>He bursts in and shouts to his master:
>
>"Master, Master! ... The Hills are alive with the sound of music!
>
>
>Source: Millie Sernovitz
>************************************************************************
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