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A mousy little fellow was waiting on a corner when a car stopped and a huge man got out.

“Excuse me, please,” the big guy said, “but I’m a stwanger in town and I’m lost. Can you diwect me to Wolling Woad?”

The ousy fellow looked at the big guy nervously and said nothing.

“Are you deaf?” the big man wanted to know. “Can’t you speak Engwish?”

Still getting no answer, the big man walked over to a police officer. “Excuse me, please, officer, but can you tell me how to get to Wolling Woad?”

“Rolling Road? Why sure—you go down this street and turn right.”

“Thank you vewy much,” replied the muscleman as he went his way. The officer watched him leave, and then went over to the little fellow. “What’s the matter with you?” he asked. “Couldn’t you tell him how to get to Rolling Road?”

“Howy smoke, officer, are you cwazy? The minute I twied to tell that big wascal how to get to Wolling Woad, he’d have town me wimb from wimb.”

Quoted by James Dent of Charleston, W.Va., Gazette, quoted in Reader’s Digest, March, 1980

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