“Now, now,” said the buxom blonde nurse sitting by his bedside. “Ve musn’t get all excited now, must ve? After all, zey are chust a bunch of silly games, nicht wahr?”
“Except,” he retorted, “I have…ahem…stuff to do.”
Max and Imogene’s reunion the week earlier was touching, but they wasted no time and sent the micro dotted tubifex worms off to Washington in the Diplomatic pouch.
A short time later, a low lever bureaucrat was in his Washignton D.C. office opening up the days assortment of diplomatic pouches and wondered why the heck someone would send him a container full of repulsive worms.
"Smells like we have the worms!’ ejaculated Clyde Tolson, “I’ll get them right over to the lab!” and snatched the repulsive cargo away.
Section Chief Warden emerged from the next room and whipped off his reading glasses. “Dammit, Tolson,” he said through clenched teeth, “how many times have I asked you to stop ejaculating in my office?”
“Talk to the Director, you silly man!” ejaculated Tolson.
Furious, Warden stormed across the room and snatched the phone from its cradle. “Get me the Director,” he barked. “Now!”
J. Edgar Hoover was thinking about Tolson in the yellow kimono when the phone rang.
Sometimes it’s better not to ask questions about Mr. Hoover, you know?