With experience comes wisdom. After digging

With experience comes wisdom. After digging graves for 45 years, George decided to train a replacement. He placed an ad in the local paper: Wanted, gravedigger; nobody called.

He couldn't understand it. Why wasn't anybody willing to learn gravedigging? Then he looked at his ad again. It looked like a wanted poster. WANTED: GRAVEDIGGER. People were afraid

that they'd get the job and immediately get arrested. This was the poster's fault! He called up the printing company to complain. "Sir," the clerk said, her patience worn thin.

The Clerk had been having a bad day. This was the fifth complaint call of the morning, and it was barely 10:30. "Sir, I understand your frustration-" "I'm going to go to prison!"

"Why didn't you lead with that? I'm on it." Minutes later a limo arrived, driven by Dwayne Johnson: "Sir, you're off to San Quentin in style! Your prison send-off package includes

some orange overalls a size too big, cool tattoo stickers, a Spanish dictionary and a cake with an inconspicuous file buried in the middle. Dwayne opened the back door of the limo

and who should he see but the Commander-in-Chief smiling at him. "I'll give you a pardon, Dwayne," he said, "but first I'd like you to do a little something for me." Dwayne could

Smell what he was cookin', alright, so gave him the peoples... Eyebrow and rock bottomed the Commander-in-Chief through the nearby desk. The CiC stood up after several moments and

shook his head. "Was I dreaming? No, this really happened..." The CiC stood dazed and confused, realizing all the wrongs that needed to be righted. Sometimes a good knocking works.

So, he knocked. He loved knocking. The sensation of a tight fist, and the resonating sound sinking through the wood of a door. Or the plastic of a door. Whatever the material.