vaseline

Well, it’s quite simple, really,” says the seller, “whenever the bike is
outside and it’s going to rain, rub Vaseline on the chrome. It protects
it from the rain.” And he hands Joe a jar of Vaseline.

That night, his girlfriend, Sandra, invites him over to meet her
parents. Naturally, they take the bike there. But just before they enter
the house, Sandra stops him and says, “I have to tell you something
about my family before we go in.”

“When we eat dinner, we don’t talk. In fact, the first person who says
anything during dinner has to do the dishes.”

“No problem,” he says. And in they go. Joe is shocked. Right smack in
the middle of the living room is a huge stack of dirty dishes. In the
kitchen is another huge stack of dishes. Piled up on the stairs, in the
corridor, everywhere he looks, dirty dishes.

They sit down to dinner and, sure enough, no one says a word. As dinner
progresses, Joe decides to take advantage of the situation. So he leans
over and kisses Sandra. No one says a word. So he reaches over and
fondles her breasts. Still, nobody says a word. So he stands up, grabs
her, rips her clothes off, throws her on the table, and screws her right
there, in front of her parents. His girlfriend is a little flustered,
her dad is obviously livid, and her mom horrified when he sits back
down, but no one says a word.

He looks at her mom. “She’s got a great body,” he thinks. So he grabs
the mom, bends her over the dinner table, and has his way with her every
which way right there on the dinner table. Now his girlfriend is furious
and her dad is boiling, but still, total silence.

All of a sudden there is a loud clap of thunder, and it starts to rain.
Joe remembers his bike, so he pulls the jar of Vaseline from his pocket.