A man calls a waiter over to his table. “Waiter,” he says, “There’s a fly in my soup.”
The waiter leans over the soup and inspects it. “Sir, I don’t see a fly at all.”
“There’s a fly in my soup,” the man insists.
The waiter leans closer to the soup, giving it a thorough inspection again. Again, he sees nothing. “Sir, there doesn’t seem to be a fly.”
“There’s absolutely a fly in my soup,” the man insists again.
The waiter leans even closer to the soup. The man grabs the back of the waiter’s neck and forces his face into the soup, which splatters everywhere.
“You didn’t look closely enough!” the man yells to the whole restaurant. He ignores the waiter’s screams of anguish as blisters appear on her face. Finally, much too late, he lets go of her neck. He picks up an eight-year old girl sitting at another table and presses his steak knife against her carotid artery. “You all didn’t look closely enough!” he shouts.
The restaurant owner comes out. The man pulls out a gun and shoots him in the heart. The owner was two days away from retirement.
A man walks into a bar and orders a beer. Someone says to him, “You look really chipper today, pal.” He looks around, but he can’t find the location of the voice.
Just as he gives up looking, he hears the same voice say, “I really like your haircut.” Again, he looks around, but he can’t find the location of the voice.
The man settles in to drink his beer before he hears, “It’s a lovely day outside, isn’t it?” The man can’t stand it any more.
“Bartender,” he says, “Do you hear a voice near me?”
“Oh,” the bartender says, “That’s just the peanuts. They’re—”
“I hate peanuts!” the man interrupts, flipping over the bowl. The man takes a nearby pool cue and spears it through the bartender’s body. He then takes his beer and throws it through the plasma television that the bartender had only bought yesterday.
“What’s the matter, honey?” says the bartender’s wife, who walked out after hearing the commotion. The man pulls out his gun and shoots the wife in the heart. She was eight months pregnant with the bartender’s child.
A priest, a rabbi, and a minister are riding the train. A man walks in and screams, “What’s the meaning of life? What’s the meaning of life?!”
The priest, the rabbi, and the minister are dumbstruck. The man shoots the priest, saying “The priest doesn’t have the answers!” The man shoots the rabbi, saying “The rabbi doesn’t have the answers!” The minister turns to run out the compartment, but the man is a skilled sharpshooter. He shoots the minister, saying “The minister doesn’t have the answers!”
“Neither do I,” he whispers as he turns the gun on himself. He cocks the gun. The wife and children of the priest, the rabbi, and the minister stare, frozen with shock. The man pulls the trigger. Specks of blood land on the face of the minister’s youngest son. He remembers that moment for the rest of his life, and he blames himself for it.