IT WAS A TEMPEST-LADEN STORMY NIGHT, WHEN A SALESMAN CAME
TO THE DOOR. THE MAN LET HIM IN. THE SALESMAN CLAIMED HE
WAS SELLING LIGHTNING RODS, AND SHOWED THE MAN HIS SELECTION.
THE MAN SAID THAT HE WASN'T INTERESTED BECAUSE OF TWO
ACCIDENTS THAT HAD OCCURRED BECAUSE OF THE RODS.
"WHAT ABOUT THAT CHURCH IN MONTREAL THAT CAUGHT FIRE?"
ASKED THE MAN.
"AH," SAID THE SALESMAN. "THE ROD WAS NOT PLACED CORRECTLY.
IT PUNCTURED THE TIN COATING OF THE ROOF, AND MADE CONTACT
WITH THE WOODEN BEAMS. NOT MY FAULT."
"AND WHAT ABOUT THE GIRL WHO GOT FRIED WHILE PRAYING NEAR
THE WINDOW?"
"EASILY EXPLAINED. A GUY WIRE BROKE LOOSE, AND SLID
THROUGH THE OPEN WINDOW WHILE STILL HOOKED TO THE ROD. THE
FOOLISH BITCH SHOULD NOT HAVE BEEN PRAYING NEAR THE WINDOW."
THERE WAS A FIRE BLAZING IN THE FIREPLACE, AND THE MAN
BECKONED THE SALESMAN TOWARD THE HEARTH. THE SALESMAN
DISAPPEARED IN A PUFF OF SMOKE.

Submitter comment: THE SALESMAN IS THE DEVIL, WHO CANNOT GO NEAR A HEARTH
AND FLEES WHEN HIS IDENTITY IS DISCOVERED.

Where learned: CANNOT REMEMBER