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The Dying Judge

sent in by John Wood-Cowling

The old Scottish Judge was dying. The Judge lay in his four poster bed propped up on his pillow's his wife Jean sitting beside him.
 

Judge:    Jean I'm slipping away I'm ready for the long dark Journey.
Jean:   I can see that James.
Judge:   I have a wee confession to make.
Jean:   A confession your no a Catholic?  You're an Elder of the Kirk?
Judge:    Not that sort of confession, do you remember those business trips I took to Glasgow twice a month?
Jean:   I remember them well James.
Judge:   Well they weren't business trips I was seeing my fancy Woman
Jean:   Well I always knew that.
Judge:    You mean to tell me you have always known about my fancy Woman???
Jean:    Aye that's why I've poisoned you.

 

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