PREVIOUS JOKE | RANDOM JOKE | NEXT JOKE

Dennisfantasy40's "My Long Macabre Aristocrats Joke" Aristocrats Joke

A family walks into a talent agency. It's a father, mother, son, daughter and dog. The father says to the talent agent, "We have a really amazing act. You should represent us."

The agent says, "Sorry, I don't represent family acts. They're a little too cute."

The mother says, "Sir, if you just see our act, we know you would want to represent us."

The agent says, "OK. OK. I'll take a look."

“Well first I walk onto the stage dressed in the finest Armani suit money can buy. My wife walks up behind me in a tasteful, but titillating French maid outfit, smelling sweetly of a mixture of Chanel #5 and citrus. Strains of Chopin’s nocturne in G minor play in the background as she patiently and delicately removes my jacket. She then moves to centre stage and takes off all her clothes to the tune of ‘Everybody Dance Now’.

She starts to twang the string of her thong to the notes of the song while I jump around like I have a live carp in my underpants. Just to accentuate my jumping, my 9-year-old daughter comes out with a live carp and puts it in my underpants. While I attempt to get the carp out of my underwear by taking all my clothes off, my daughter twangs along with her mother on her mother’s thong.

After throwing my suit in a crumpled pile on the floor and getting down to just my white boxers with blue polka dots the carp jumps out of the shorts and due to the surprise, sprays noxious smelling carp sperm all over my Armani suit. My 7-year-old son comes out with a Swiffer dust mop to clean the mess up. He pushes the suit and the carp sperm off to the side of the stage and does a running sliding thing. You know, a running slide thing like he’s dancing with a mop, like Tom Cruise or Matthew Broderick or something in a movie. Except it’s not to the tune of ‘Old Time Rock & Roll’ because he’s not even dancing with a real mop, it’s to the song ‘It’s Raining Men’.

Now we’re a big fan of choreography our family, so my wife and daughter stop playing with their underwear and pull a giant ladder with a diving board onto the stage and I proceed to climb up 20 feet in the air, leap down onto him and squash the tiny fucker. Being sticklers for accuracy as well as choreography, we decide we need more than one man in order for it to be raining men, so my wife straps on a purple dildo, climbs up the ladder and jumps onto the pile of human carnage below.

Not being a large fellow, I never end up injuring the boy after jumping on him, but occasionally my wife’s strap on dildo comes down with such force that he ends up with a dislocated elbow. In such an event, my daughter, having had sufficient practice doing so, pops the elbow back in the socket and we carry on the act.

The lighting changes to a soft blue hue and our dogs come out on stage. We like to dress them up in costumes representing historical figures. There’s the Chow with a little bone skull cap on as Attila the Hun, a Black Lab as William Wallace with blue face paint and a little kilt, a dachshund wearing a toga is Caligula, a German Sheppard in an SS outfit and moustache as Adolph Hitler and a Dalmatian as Michael Jackson.

In order to really take advantage of the historical significance we act out what we remember of their lives and deaths in the following manner. The chow swings around a big stick before my son boots it in the face with a steel toe work boot and dies of a nosebleed. The Black Lab runs around biting a bunch of Corgis, ripping their throats out before my wife and I grab it, choke it, pull his legs and then disembowel it. The dachshund proceeds to fuck its sister dog and a horse and then the family gathers around it and shoots it with flaming arrows. The German Sheppard gets on his hind legs, gives the Nazi sieg hiel salute and flicks a switch releasing poison gas over every Jewish person sitting in the audience. We chase him into a corner, shoot him in the head and proceed to remove his brain for future study.

Some would say that those acts are gruesome and unspeakable. So we have a flashing sign above the stage saying “Silence Please, Gruesome Acts in Progress”. Still others would say that it’s not as bad as the clubbing of baby seals. So to satisfy that portion of the audience we start clubbing baby seals. Then we get back to the dogs. The Dalmatian gets in a shower stall with my 7 year old son and rapes my son after I give him an enema of 1968 Bordeaux (It was a good year).

The Dalmatian leaves the shower stall and moonwalks off stage while we set up the trampoline. My 84-year-old grandfather and 62-year-old grandmother get in cars on opposite ends of the stage. My grandfather is driving his expensive TVR Tuscan 2 (a European model), grandma is in a Lamborghini Diablo. Our kids stand in the centre of the stage; my wife and I spray paint them each with a big orange X and my grandparents’ floor it, driving straight into each other, squishing our kids in the process. Don’t worry, the cars have air bags, everyone survives.

Here’s where the dramatic portion of the act kicks in, I’d like to think of this section as a performance art piece. The children, feeling wonderful from a near death experience, have sex; to heighten the experience we have them take angel dust between orgasms. You might not think a child as young as 7 is even capable of orgasm, but we’ve been fine tuning this act for 3 months and they have it down pat. They become born again Christians and start trying to find Jesus. To take this from a metaphysical and spiritual journey to something that can be portrayed on stage, we actually have them drag out from behind the curtain a Jewish guy in a white bathrobe with thorns on his head.

Having found Jesus they realize their search is over and proceed to beat the shit out of him. Now I know that this has been depicted in several movies over the years with varying degrees of violence and success. But we feel the only way to truly experience the Passion of the Christ is to really be there and watch the blood of Christ really flow. We get Tim Rice and Andrew Lloyd Webber conducting an orchestra off stage during the scene. They only get through the first movement of “I Don’t know How To Love Him” before we drag them on stage and beat the shit out of them as well. For our matinee shows Mel Gibson is substituted for Andrew Lloyd Webber, seeing how he’s so busy and gets tired rather easily.

We’re talking real carnage here; this isn’t some 5-minute clobbering, or a 20-minute Gallagher show. This is the sort of beating that would make George Carlin wet his pants, 39 minutes of beating the shit out of Jesus’ skull. We’d go longer but unfortunately the FCC has a ban on public beatings lasting 40 minutes or longer, and we wouldn’t want to offend the sensors in case we get a cable deal.

The bald Satan guy from that Mel Gibson movie makes a cameo appearance, laughing at the carnage going on as we gently place the Jesus carcass on a meat hook prop set up by the stagehands. Bald Satan guy pulls out his wang ready to skull fuck him before our bit of Deus Ex Machina (An ancient Greek plot device where god shows up in a play, fixing everything. Otherwise translated as ‘we ran out of fucking ideas’) Ozzy Osbourne and a gentleman in the South Park Satan costume save the day by tag teaming Bald Satan with a little double penetration action. The audience roars its approval while our naked family is given instruments and begins playing the rolling stones ‘Sympathy for the Devil’. They cheer along at the whooo whooo part and Ozzy bites Bald Satan’s head off, spitting blood and rubbing alcohol on the audience (as a part of Mr. Osbourne’s contract he is allowed to disinfect the head of Bald Satan with rubbing alcohol)

The princes of darkness exit the stage, Junior uses his Swiffer sweeper on the bald Satan’s body to clean the stage, and the Jesus meat hook is dragged up to the sky representing his ascension to heaven and grandma and grandpa’s bodies slump out of the cars representing the resurrection. So ends the dramatic portion of our show.

Now our act is all about balance, like a three ring circus. If you don’t like the elephant’s you’ll like the clowns. So we move on to a more comedic approach. To emphasize our attitude and business approach, our 7 year old son stuffs the sweeper up a clown’s ass and feeds it to an elephant while the stage hands set up the next portion of the show.

My wife walks back on stage, tits hanging out, wearing crotch less panties, a cowboy hat and a gun holster. Instead of guns in the gun holster, she has a pair of green 11” dildos. With the accompaniment of elephant munches and the Looney tunes song ‘The Merry Go Round Broke Down’ she walks into the made up set of a saloon and orders a drink. Usually it’s a beer unless she’s in the mood for a dry martini with a goats blood chaser (We don’t use real goat’s blood, we use the leftovers from the dog’s act, we’re efficient and environmentally friendly around here) The burlesque dancer played by my 9 year old daughter is dancing the can-can in the background as actual audience members are invited on stage and are able to watch the show up close. Being more tasteful we don’t allow them to stuff dollar bills in her garter, no one wants to see such debauchery, but they are allowed to finger her gently and softly.

The bartender, played by our 7-year-old son says we don’t serve her kind around here. My wife gets pissed off, pulls out a dildo and chops a random audience member’s arm off like a scene from Star Wars. Our son pulls a 13-inch dildo from behind the bar and points it at her, threatening to take her head off. My wife, not missing a beat pulls a 15 inch dildo out of her ass and points it at him, and they begin to go back and forth, each producing bigger and bigger fake phalluses until my wife pulls out this big honking, metallic silver, double sided mother fucker that looks like a giant red wood. This is the soft of thing that they use at Sea World to get Shamoo all worked up for a show. The strain gets to be too much for her, she drops it, and it rolls into the audience, taking out the front row.

This calamity starts a mad scramble as we all jump in and begin juggling the dildos my wife and son start pulling out of seemingly nowhere. I’ve got three in each hand, two poking out the poop chute and one tucked back behind the ear like the pencil of a hack writer trying to look productive. I use my mouth to toss them to my waiting daughter, puckered anus poking into the air and they plop inside like a game of lawn darts. The trick is she gets them to balance into an inuksuk. For those who don’t know, that’s one of those Eskimo stone statues that kinda sorta looks like a person.

My daughter does a handstand, keeping this macabre sculpture balanced while my son, wife and I bend over, stick trumpets in our asses and play “The Hamster Dance”. The decapitated Jesus corpse drops behind us, suspended on strings now like a marionette and plays a flourish to end the show.

In case there’s an encore, we stage a boxing match between Barney the Dinosaur and Mr. Roger’s corpse, the winner is given a purse containing not money but a nest of killer bees. While the winner is convulsing, he’s sodomized with a cucumber and we take turns skull fucking him until the curtain finally comes down.”

For the longest time, the agent just sits in silence. Finally, he manages, "That's a hell of an act. What do you call it?"

And the father says, "The Aristocrats!"

PREVIOUS JOKE | RANDOM JOKE | NEXT JOKE