Knock, knock, knock! (pretending he’s the gatekeeper in hell) Who’s there, in the devil’s name? Maybe it’s a farmer who killed himself because grain was cheap. (talking to the imaginary farmer) You’re here just in time! I hope you brought some handkerchiefs; you’re going to sweat a lot here
This is a lot of knocking! Come to think of it, if a man were in charge of opening the gates of hell to let people in, he would have to turn the key a lot.
Knock, knock! Who’s there, in the other devil’s name? Maybe it’s some slick, two-faced con man who lied under oath. But he found out that you can’t lie to God, and now he’s going to hell for perjury. Come on in, con man
Knock, knock, knock! Who’s there? Maybe it’s an English tailor who liked to skimp on the fabric for people’s clothes. But now that tight pants are in fashion he can’t get away with it. Come on in, tailor. You can heat your iron up in here
Knock, knock! Never a moment of peace! Who are you? Ah, this place is too cold to be hell. I won’t pretend to be the devil’s porter anymore. I was going to let someone from every profession into hell
I’m coming, I’m coming! Please, don’t forget to leave me a tip
Did you go to bed so late, my friend, that you’re having a hard time getting up now?
That’s right sir, we were drinking until 3 A.M., and drink, sir, makes a man do three things
What three things does drink make a man do?
Drinking turns your nose red, it puts you to sleep, and it makes you urinate. Lust it turns on but also turns off.
I believe drink did all of this to you last night.
It did, sir. It got me right in the throat. But I got even with drink. I was too strong for it. Although it weakened my legs and made me unsteady, I managed to vomit it out and laid it flat on the ground