Old Dave is lying on his deathbed in his upstairs bedroom. As he draws his last breaths, he senses the smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies wafting up from the kitchen.
Driven by the smell of his favorite treat, he musters the strength to get himself out of bed and crawls downstairs. With great difficulty he drags himself down the hall on his hands and knees to the kitchen, where he sees his wife baking the chocolate chip cookies. With his last ounce of energy, he gets up on his knees and reaches out for a cookie, whereupon his wife slaps him on the wrist and says, “Don’t touch those; they’re for the funeral.”
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