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Riddles Are Stupid
I have a riddle, Brittany says.
Shoot, I say, dragging my pencil across a sheet of notebook paper that I should be writing on.
What's blue, hangs on a wall, and whistles?
Hm, I mumble something to myself, Is it a blue whistling clock?
No, she giggles, hiding behind her hands.
I give up, I say, adding eyes to the cat I was drawing.
It's a herring, she laughs.
What the- I look up from my drawing, But a herring's not blue!
It is if you paint it.
Herrings don't hang on a wall, I challenge.
You can nail it to a wall.
But a herring doesn't whistle! I slam my pencil down on the table. How do you explain that one then? Huh?
Precisely, she says. I just said it whistled to make the riddle harder.
That's stupid. I have a better riddle than that.
So try me, she says.
What's green, bumpy, has four doors, and goes 'Slam, slam, slam, slam, zoom!'?
What the hell is wrong with you Brittany?
I said a herring, so I figured you'd probably say some kind of fish. Or is it a bird?
You're stupid. It's a four-door family pickle.
Now that's stupid, she says, laughing so hard she had tars in her eyes.
Yours was stupider, I laughed too, practically falling from my seat.
At least a herring exists, What's a family pickle?
Shut up, I say, still trying to catch my breath from the laughter.
Riddles are stupid anyway, let's do something else. How about a joke?
Sure, I say, regaining my composure.
What do you get if you cross and elephant with a rhino?
I don't know, what?
'Ell if I know!