You Can Have My John Hancock
So I went to my P.O. Box today to get my mail, and it turns out that I got a package! So I give my slip to the clerk and he comes back with a small brown box and hands it to me. So I grab the package and start to leave, but then he stops me and says, "Sir? You need to sign for this."
I hate signing for things. My hands weren't made for holding little pens, and I hate the hassle of stopping to sign for everything from artwork to bail bonds. And I'd have to put the package down and that's awkward and time-consuming. So I tell him I'll sign for it the next time I come in.
"Sorry, sir, you'll need to sign for it now. It won't take more than a few seconds."
"Listen, kid, you already had to sign for it to get the package anyway, just sign it for me so I can be on my way."
"Sir, we need your signature for verification. It's company policy. Really, sir, this isn't a big deal."
"If you care so much about it, forge my signature."
"Um, I can't do that. Please, sir, I need your signature."
So I put down the box, turn to the guy and say, "You can't have my signature, but I'll give you my John Hand-Cock!" and sucker-punch him square in the crotch. While he's doubled over I grab my shipment of kiddie porn and leave.
Well, I thought the joke was funny.
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