[LONG] The telephone rang at dawn.

'Hello, Senor George? This is Roberto, the caretaker at your country house.'
'Hi Roberto. How are you? Is there a problem?'
'Uh, I am just calling to tell you, Senor George, that your parrot died.'
'My parrot? Dead? The one that collected three prizes at the New York bird show?'
'Yes, Senor, that's the one.'
'Damn! That's a real shame. I spent a small fortune on that bird. What did he die from?'
'From eating rotten meat, Senor George.'
'Rotten meat? Who the hell fed him rotten meat?'
'Nobody, Senor. He ate the meat of the dead horse.'
'Dead horse? What dead horse?'
'The thoroughbred, Senor George.'
'My favorite thoroughbred is dead?'
'Yes Senor George, he died from all that work pulling the water cart.'
'What are you talking about? What water cart?'
'The one we used to put out the fire, Senor.'
'My God! What do you mean fire? Where?'
'At your house, Senor. A candle fell and the curtains caught fire.'
'What the hell! Are you telling me that my eight million dollar mansion has been destroyed because of a candle?'
'Yes, I'm afraid so, Senor George.'
'But i don't understand, there's electricity at the house, so what's the candle for?'
'For the funeral, Senor George.'
'What goddamn funeral?'
'Your wife's, Senor George. She showed up unexpectedly one night and i thought she was a burglar. So I hit her with your new Tiger Woods one iron.'
There was a lengthy silence.
'Roberto, if you broke that golf club, you're in real trouble...'