< 1 min read
When David, an up-and-coming Jewish author, arrives home after work, he's greeted at the front door by his wife Rachel. She's sobbing hysterically.
"What's the matter darling?" asks David, putting his arms around her.
"Oy Vay," cries Rachel, "there's been a terrible fire in our kitchen. I was frying some fish for dinner when the phone rang. It was your agent wanting to bring you up to date with her progress in finding a publisher. But while I was talking to her, I didn't notice that I'd left the gas on high and within minutes the oil was ablaze. Then the kitchen units caught fire and within minutes, the whole kitchen was alight. If it wasn't for ...."
David suddenly interrupts her. "Hold on a second will you? Did you say my agent called? What did she have to say?"