The right answer.The right answer.
It was one of those bright mornings in primary school when the teacher decided to mix a bit of fun with learning. She stood in front of the class, chalk in hand, and said with a smile, “Alright children, here’s a quick challenge! I’ll give two dollars to the student who can tell me the name of the most famous person who ever lived.”
Hands shot up immediately.
Sean, a lively boy from Ireland, raised his hand eagerly. “It was Saint Patrick!” he declared with conviction.
The teacher smiled, appreciating his enthusiasm. “Good guess, Sean, and certainly a great historical figure—but not quite what I had in mind.”
Next came Pierre, a boy from France, who straightened his tie and said proudly, “Napoleon Bonaparte!”
“Another strong answer,” the teacher nodded. “But again, not the one I was looking for.”
Then, Maurice, who usually sat quietly near the window, raised his hand with calm confidence.
“Jesus Christ,” he said simply.
The teacher beamed. “Exactly right, Maurice! Come on up and collect your two dollars.”
As Maurice walked up to the front of the class, the teacher handed him the bill, and then with gentle curiosity asked, “You know, Maurice, I didn’t expect you to say Jesus. That’s very interesting.”
Maurice smiled and shrugged, “Well, I thought it was Moses too, but hey… two dollars is two dollars.”
The class erupted in laughter, and even the teacher couldn’t help but chuckle at Maurice’s honesty and wit.
2. The Cost of a Proposal
In a quiet corner of the city, a wealthy woman with sharp eyes and elegant taste often stopped by the same café, where a modest, kind-hearted man worked behind the counter. He was polite, a bit reserved, but there was a warmth to his presence that many noticed—including her.
She enjoyed his conversations, and he admired her spirit, even if their lives were worlds apart. Still, they shared small talk, exchanged glances, and over time, formed a quiet friendship.
One evening, as the café was closing, he found himself bolder than usual. Looking across the table, he said gently, “You know, you’re very wealthy.”
She gave a graceful nod. “Yes, I suppose I am. Last I checked, my estate is worth about 1.25 million.”
He paused, then smiled. “And I’m quite the opposite. I’m a poor man by comparison. But… would you marry me?”
She looked at him for a moment, then replied simply, “No.”
He nodded, as though expecting it. “I figured you’d say that.”
She tilted her head. “Then why did you ask?”
With a wry grin, he replied, “I just wanted to know what it feels like to lose 1.25 million dollars in one sentence.”
They both laughed, the moment lightening as quickly as it had deepened.
3. The Magic Desk
Stanley had been on the hunt for the perfect desk for weeks. He needed something sturdy, unique—something that would bring character to his office. While strolling through an antique district one Saturday, he noticed a curious desk displayed in the window of a small shop with a sign that read: “Not just old—magical.”
Intrigued, Stanley stepped inside. The shopkeeper, a sprightly older man with twinkling eyes, welcomed him warmly.
“That’s a fine desk you’ve got out front,” Stanley said, running his fingers along the wood grain.
“It’s more than fine,” the shopkeeper replied. “That’s a magic desk. It tells the truth, no matter what.”
Stanley raised an eyebrow. “Magic, huh? And how much are you asking for it?”
“Five thousand dollars.”
“Five thousand?! For a desk?” Stanley blinked. “What makes it worth that much?”
“Let me show you,” the man grinned. He turned to the desk. “Desk, how much money do I have in my pocket?”
The desk tapped one of its legs four times—tap, tap, tap, tap.
The shopkeeper reached into his pocket and pulled out exactly four dollar coins.
Stanley’s eyes widened.
“Alright,” he said, amused. “Let’s see what else this thing knows. Desk, how much money does my wife have in her bank account?”
Suddenly, the desk sprang to life. Its legs shook rapidly, up and down, for a full five minutes, creaking and tapping in an uncontrollable rhythm. The drawers flung open and shut as though reacting to some invisible earthquake.
Stanley’s jaw dropped. “That much?! I guess I underestimated her savings… or her secrets.”
The shopkeeper chuckled, “That’s marriage for you. The desk doesn’t lie.”
Stanley didn’t buy the desk that day—but he did leave with a story that he’d tell at every dinner party for years.
