AT dawn the telephone rings.
"Hello, Master Carlos? This is Arnaldo your country house caretaker."
"Ah yes, Mr. Arnaldo. What can I do for you? Is there a problem?"
"Um, I am just calling to advise you, sir, that your parrot died."
"My parrot? Dead? The one that won the competition?"
"That's the one."
"Darn! That's such a pity! I spent a small fortune on that bird. Oh well... what did he die of?"
"From eating rotten meat."
"Rotten meat? Who was so mean as to give him meat?"
"Nobody. He ate the meat of one of the dead horses."
"Dead horses? What dead horses, Mr. Arnaldo?"
"Why, those purebred ones that you had, sir. They died from all that work pulling the water cart."
"Are you insane? What water cart?"
"The one we used to put out the fire."
"Good Lord! What fire are you talking about, man?"
"The one at your house! A candle fell and then the curtain caught on fire."
"What the...!!! But there's electricity at the house!!!! What was the candle for
"
"For the funeral."
"WHAT BLOODY FUNERAL
!!!!!"
"Your mother's! She showed up one night out of the blue and I thought she was a thief, so I shot her."
The Art of Breaking the Bad News
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