Me, but after .34 of a plum-covered duck, a Mike's Hard Cranberry Lemonade, 2 mosquito bites, a pomegranate martini, a white chocolate cupcake, and a game of catch using a Nerf football.
Me, but after... uh... all that stuff... who?
Well, just me after all that stuff. Kinda full, a little drunk.
Yes, an Exactly What! On a chain!
What on God's green earth are you talking about, drunky?
That old poem, from the Shel Silverstein. Me, Me Who, an ExactlyWhat on a chain. It was brilliant.
Ah. I didn't read that one.
I did. I loved the irony of it. There was a poem about having a library book that was a bajillion years overdue, and then I had *that* book overdue. Never actually gave it back, in fact. It's probably still at a box in my parents' attic, actually. Tee hee.
Okay, see, that's great and all, but I don't see how it relates to the original Knock Knock joke.
I'm sorry, have you met me? Does it *have* to relate to anything? Honestly?
Well, if it doesn't, maybe you shouldn't be trying to tell Knock Knock jokes after two drinks and a cubic freakton of sugar, Miss Sassypants.
Fine. You win. I won't tell jokes. Spoilsport. I've got better things to do, anyway.
Great. How about you take a class in how to tell jokes? That would be a *super* way to use your time.
You're just jealous. Of the cupcake. And the mad joke-telling skillz.
I am *not* jealous. But you, madam, are drunk.
Yeah, that, too.