Grandma Takes The Stand
At a small-town trial in the South, the prosecutor proudly calls an elderly church-lady grandmother to the stand.
“Mrs. Jones,” he begins, “do you know me?”
She smiles sweetly and says, “Why yes, I do. I’ve known you since you were a boy—and you’ve been a disappointment ever since. You lie, you cheat on your wife, and you think you’re a big shot when you’re nothing more than a two-bit paper pusher. Yes, I know you.”
The lawyer nearly swallows his tongue. Desperate, he points to the defense attorney: “Mrs. Jones, do you know him?”
“Oh, I sure do,” she replies. “Known him since he was knee-high. Lazy as the day is long, drinks too much, and cheated on his wife with three women—one of ’em was your wife. Yes, I know him.”
The defense lawyer nearly faints.
The judge leans over, lowers his voice and warns both attorneys:
“If either of you fools asks her if she knows me, I’ll have you both sitting on death row by suppertime.”
