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British humor

maynard

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In August 2017, the Clock Tower on the North side of the Palace of Westminster, was shut down for major repairs, restoration, improvements, and modernization, including a new striker for The Great Bell. The deep full sound of the Great Bell, is expected, and demanded by the entire world.
After giving the Great Bell a few tries, with the new striker, the only sound the famous bell made was a dull thud. That was totally unacceptable. British engineers and physicists the world over, worked frantically to solve the problem. Many months went by, with no solution, or even a guess on how to solve it.
As horrible as it was, in April 2018, Notre Dame burned down, but the tragedy proved to be a God send for the Great Bell. It freed up the best, and most famous bell ringer of all time: Quasi Moto, the hunch backed, grotesque faced, bell ringer of the Cathedral of Notre Dame. Queen Elizabeth II immediately dispatched the chairman, and five members of the Clock Tower commission to Paris, to offer Quasi Moto a new job.
Quasi, after seeing the tear eyed commission, accepted the invitation, and went to London. Immediately the Hunchback identified the problem, and had the new striker removed, and some minor adjustments to how the bell was hung.
To the absolute astonishment of the Tower commission, engineers, and scientists, Quasi stretched his arms out along the edge of the Great Bell, leaned back, and smashed his face into the bell. It roared to life, with that deep, satisfying ring, even better, more melodious than ever before. Londoners all over the city, had to stop and gasp at the beauty of the sound. The Queen, in her chambers heard it at well. She pressed her hand against her chest, tilted her head back, and breathed deeply through her nostrils. She shut her eyes with a smile, because she just knew it could only be the talent of Quasi Moto.
The Commission had a small balcony installed on the bell chamber, so that Quasi could dart out to wave at all the people gathering on the streets below, just to see him. Tourism in London increased one thousand fold. The Queen, as an attraction, actually rejoiced at being somewhat second staged.
BUT…Quasi, getting older, and after a few months of bell ringing, lamented the fact that he never got any time off, or even, perhaps, short holidays to see his new homeland. He went to the Chairman of the Bell commission to present his case.
It was hopeless. The Chairman said that unless Quasi could find a substitute, who could ring the Great Bell as well as he could, and looked as grotesque, with a club foot, and a hunched back, London could no longer afford the loss to the number one tourist attraction. It would be a financial disaster.
That night, totally despondent, Quasi took a walk along the Thames, even more hunch backed than usual. The walk reminded him of his night walks along the Seine in Paris, where the lights would flicker, as he passed by the menagerie of drunks, ladies of the night, and the downtrodden.
In the flickering half dark, Quasi bumped, abruptly, into someone. Both apologized profusely, but in the dim light, Quasi was astonished to see a man who could be his identical twin brother, not as well dressed, of course, but ugly, hunchbacked, and club footed, perhaps a little younger.
“Say…” Quasi blurted out, exuberantly, with wide grinning eyes. “How has your luck been? Would you like steady meals? How about a warm, soft bed to sleep in every night? I have just the job for you, and it is easy.”
All the other hunchback could do was to grin widely, and nod with excitement.
“But first we will need the approval of the Chairman of the Commission,” Quasi said.
The two went straight to the Chairman’s House, and in spite of the wee hours, they pounded on his door. A very irate gentleman, in his night clothes, muttering profanities, opened the door. He straightened bolt upright at what he saw. It was Quasi Moto, and another man, who could be his identical twin.
“Well,” said the Chairman. “This fellow looks enough like you, Quasi, to fool any tourist, but you’ll have to take him up to the belfry in the morning to see if he can ring the Great Bell, only as you can.”
The two new companions went up into the belfry, and talked to each other of their lives, until the sun started to rise in the morning. Quasi went to the bell, smiled at his friend, stretched his arm out along the rim of the bell, leaned back, and smashed his face into the Great Bell. It rang magnificently, and every Londoner smiled. It was the the most fitting, most joyful music, to start their day.
“Give it a try,” Quasi said to his companion.
The other Hunchback gripped the Bell as he had been shown, leaned back, and also with a smile, smashed his face into the bell. It uttered nothing more than a dull thud. Quasi was nearly frantic, and ordered the other hunchback to step back a pace or two. Then take a run at it, face first, to increase the strength of the contact. The other hunchback, intently complied, but with only another dull thud as a result.
“Back up,” Quasi said. “Back up, back up, way back.” and the other hunchback complied.
But…he backed up too far, and into the small balcony, where the railing hit him well below the waist. He flipped head over heals, over the railing, and down multiple stories, to die on the pavement below. A crowd of Londoners, and tourists, hoping to see Quasi, gathered quickly around fractured body of the poor hapless man. Among the crowd was the Chairman of the Bell Committee.
“Sir, Sir,” the crowd demanded. “Who is this poor sole?”
The Chairman bent down to study the hunchback’s face.
“I don’t know,” he said. “But he is a dead ringer for Quasi Moto.”
Quasi, who had rushed down the tower, arrived seconds later.
“Quasi Moto, Quasi Moto,” the crowd demanded. ‘Who is this poor sole?”
Quasi also bent down to look the poor fellow over.
“I don’t know,” he said sadly. “His face just doesn’t ring a bell!”
 

Gliderman8

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Oy :encouragement:
 
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