So a Frenchman, a Brit, and a New Yorker are captured by cannibals...

So a Frenchman, a Brit, and a New Yorker are captured by cannibals. The chieftain has them bound and brought to the village square, where he announces their fate. "For trespassing on our land," he says, "you will all be sentenced to death! You will be killed, skinned, eaten, and have your hides tanned to make our war canoes with. However, because I am a just and merciful chieftain, I will allow you to choose the way you die."

They approach the Frenchman first, and ask him how he wants to die. "I have lived many years on zis world," he says, "and have loved for a long time. Now, I would like to go peacefully. Bring me herbs to put me to sleep, and herbs that will ensure that I will never wake up." The cannibals go out to find the most toxic herbs on the island and give them to the Frenchman, who eats them and falls to sleep, never to wake up. He is skinned before the others, and his flesh is taken to be cooked, and his hide is taken to be tanned.

Next, the Brit is approached. "Your friend is dead, and you are next. Tell us, how would you like to die?"

The Brit, ever the dignified one, says "I refuse to let down my honor, even in the face of certain death. Bring me a saber, and allow me to die in combat against the finest fighter amongst your number." The cannibals find two swords, and get their most ferocious warrior. The Brit, not knowing more than a bit of fencing, gets his neck neatly slit during the fight. He dies instantly, and is taken to be skinned. His meat is cooked, and his hide is turned into a canoe.

"At last, my American friend," the chieftain says, approaching the New Yorker, "it is your turn to join your fellows. Tell me, how do you wish to die?"

The New Yorker grins, and says "Bring me a fork."

The chieftain is confused, but motions for the tribe to produce a fork. When it is handed over to the New Yorker, he laughs and begins stabbing himself repeatedly with it, tearing apart every inch of his body with its prongs. Horrified, the chieftain yells "Stop! What are you doing to yourself?!?"

To which the New Yorker replies, "SO MUCH FOR YOUR DAMN CANOE!"