They want to visit Auschwitz, and have a guided tour.
On the way from their hotel to the camp their bus breaks down.
The guide, embarrassed because of this, thinks of a way to meet the deadline for the tour.
He sees a farm in the distance, and rushes to it.
He knocks on the door of the house, and an old chech man opens.
"Hello! We´re from Israel and want to go to Auschwitz, but our bus broke down. Might you be able to help us?"
"How many of you are there?"
"With me, there are 52 of us."
The farmer looks at the guide, then at the bus in the distance. With a worried face he turns and looks at something in his kitchen behind his back. Then he looks the guide straight in the eyes.
"Sorry, I don´t have an oven that big."
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