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reading tiger

"Waiting For Godot" Told as a Series of Knock-Knock Jokes

(blame my children.)


Knock knock.
Who's there?
Vladimir.
Vladimir who?
All my life I've tried to put it from me, saying Vladimir, be reasonable, you haven't yet tried everything. And I resumed the struggle.

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Knock knock.
Who's there?
Estragon.
So there you are again.

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Knock knock.
Who's there?
Don't count on me to enlighten you.

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Knock knock.
Who's there?
What did we do yesterday?
What did we do yesterday?

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Knock knock.
Who's there?
There's nothing to be done.

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Knock knock.
Who's there?
Suppose we repented.
Of what?
We wouldn't have to go into details.
Our being born?

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Knock knock.
Who's there?
Let's hang ourselves.
Why?
It'd give us an erection.
Let's hang ourselves immediately!

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Knock knock.
Let's stop talking for a minute, do you mind?

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Knock knock.
Who's there?
I present myself: Pozzo.
Pozzo who?
Pozzo! Made in God's image! Does that name mean nothing to you?

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Knock knock.
His name is Lucky. Old dogs have more dignity. You're being spoken to, pig! Reply!

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Knock knock.
Who's there?
Why doesn't he put down his bags?
What?
Why doesn't he put down his bags?
Let's try and get this clear. The answer is this. Has he not the right to? Certainly. It follows that he doesn't want to. There's reasoning for you.

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Knock knock.
Who's there?
Testew and Cunard.
Testew and Cunard who?
That man in Possy of Testew and Cunard, the public works of Puncher and Wattmann, the labors of Fartov and Belcher left unfinished, it is established beyond all doubt, autumn summer, winter, tennis of all kinds, running water, running fire, Steinweg and Peterman stark naked in stockinged feet in Connemara for reasons unknown, the air, the earth, the sea, the abode of stones, the beard, the flames, by and large, more or less, with some exceptions, the skull, the skull, in a word I resume, but time will tell...


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Knock knock.
[long silence]
Say something!

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Knock knock.
Who's there?
Time has stopped.

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Let us tell each other jokes.
It would pass the time.


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Knock knock.
Who's there?
It's not Godot.
It's not Godot?
It's not Godot.

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Knock knock.
Who's there?
Ceremonious ape!
Punctilicious pig!
Moron!
Vermin!
Abortion!
Morpion!
Sewer-rat!
Curarte!
Cretin!
Crrrrritic!
Oh!

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Knock knock.
Who's there?
Why don't we hang ourselves?
With what?


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Knock knock.
Who's there? It wasn't you who came yesterday.
No sir.
This is your first time.
Yes sir.
You're not unhappy?
I don't know, sir.
What does he do, Mr. Godot?
[Silence]
Do you hear me?
Yes, Sir.
Well?
He does nothing, sir.

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Knock knock.
Who's there?
Astride of a grave and a difficult birth. Down in the hole, lingeringly, the grave-digger puts on the foreceps. We have time to grow old. The air is full of our cries.

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Knock knock.
Who's there?
Let's go.
We can't.
Why not?
We're waiting for Godot.

Comments

perfect!
This is awesome.
Imagine Ian McKellen and Patrick Stewart performing that.