The assistant says, "$2000." The man is shocked and asks the assistant why it's so expensive.
The assistant explains, "This parrot is a very special one. He knows typewriting and can type really fast."
"What about the green one?" the man asks.
The assistant says, "He costs $5000, because he knows typewriting and can answer incoming telephone calls and takes notes."
"What about the red one?" the man asks.
The assistant says, "That one's $10,000."
The man says, "What does HE do?"
The assistant says, "I don't know, but the other two call him 'boss'."
So the guy says, "Once I was driving down the road and saw a gang of bikers assaulting this poor girl. So I pulled over, got out my car, grabbed a tire iron and walked straight up to the gang's leader--a huge, ugly guy with a studded leather jacket, bald head, but with hair all over his body, and a chain running from his nose to his ear.
Undaunted, I ripped the chain out of his nose and ear and smashed him over the head with the tire iron. Then I turned around and, wielding my tire iron, yelled to the rest of them, 'You leave this poor, innocent lady alone! You're all a bunch of sick, deranged animals! Go home before I teach you all a lesson in pain!'"
Impressed, St. Peter says, "Really? I can't seem to find this in your file. When did this happen?"
"Oh, about two minutes ago."
I sat the display skeleton in the front of my car, his bony arm across the back of my seat. I hadn't considered the drive across town. At one traffic light, the stares of the people in the car beside me became obvious, and I looked across and explained, "I'm delivering him to my doctor's office."
The other driver leaned out of his window. "I hate to tell you, lady," he said, "but I think it's too late!"