Funny Stories: Only Hugh can prevent florist friars

One Sunday morning, the pastor noticed little Alex standing in the foyer of the church staring up at a large plaque.

It was covered with names and small American flags mounted on either side of it.

The six-year-old had been staring at the plaque for some time, so the pastor walked up; stood beside the little boy; and said quietly, “Good morning Alex.”

“Good morning, Pastor.” He replied, still focussed on the plaque.  “Pastor, what is this?”

The pastor replied, “Well, son, it’s a memorial to all the young men and women who died in the service.”

Soberly, they just stood together, staring at the large plaque.

Finally, little Alex’s voice, barely audible and trembling with fear asked, “Which service, the 8:00 or the 10:30?”

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Two friars are having trouble paying off the belfry, so they open a florist shop. Everyone wants to buy flowers from the men of God so business is quickly booming.

The florist across town sees a huge drop in sales and asks the two friars to close their shop, but they refuse. A month later the florist begs the friars to close because he’s having trouble feeding his family. Again, they refuse, so the florist hires Hugh McTaggert.

Hugh is the roughest, toughest thug in town and is hired to “persuade” the friars to close. Hugh asks the friars to close their florist shop.  When they refuse, he threatens to beat the crap out of them and wreck their shop every day they remain open, so they close.

This proves once again that Hugh and only Hugh can prevent florist friars.

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Three brothers in Ireland used to frequent a local pub. Then one moved to America and another to Australia.

The lone brother left still went to the pub, but now he ordered three beers, taking a sip from each in turn. The patrons watched him go through this ritual for some time before one of them asked why. “One’s for my brother in America, one for my brother in Australia and one for me,” he replied.

After this explanation, the fellow didn’t show up at the pub for a month. Then he appeared again and ordered two beers. He drank from one, then the other. One of the patrons went over and extended his condolences for the man’s bereavement.

“What bereavement?” the chap asked.

“Well, the loss of one of your brothers,” the patron said.

“My brothers are alive,” the fellow corrected. He held up one glass. “This is for my brother in America.” He held up the other. “This is for my brother in Australia. And I quit drinking.”