| An old man was lying on his deathbed. With only hours to live, he suddenly smelt chocolate chip cookies wafting up from the kitchen. Driven on by his favourite smell, he somehow managed to pull himself out of bed, across the floor to the stairs, and slowly down the stairs to the kitchen. There, the old man's wife was baking chocolate chip cookies. With his last bit of energy, mustering everything he had left, he reached for a cookie only to get his hand slapped. "No," the wife snapped, "these are for the funeral!" |