The Eleven Commandments

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On a mountaintop, a group of people gathered together at a deli.

"We'll make a new sign," declared Mo.

"What'll it say?" asked Aaron.

"It'll be a list of the Eleven Commandments for eating here."

"Don't be a schlemiel, who needs signs to sit down and eat a bagel and lox?"

"The customers want a sign. It'll tell them what to do or not to do."

"OK, what are they?"

"Well, let's see. What do we want them to be?"

This caused a stir of consternation.

"One of them should be about the broken handle on the toilet, that's for sure."

"Anyway, what use are your Commandments if they're not written down anywhere?"

"So we'll write them down. My nephew Bernie, he's a real whiz with the chisel and stone."

"He left one off!"


"He left one off! One of the commandments. The sign's only got ten commandments. What good is a sign with only ten commandments?"

"Relax, it's only carved in stone."

"Well this ruins everything."

"So call it the Ten Commandments, who will know?"

"Oy, vey!"

"Where'd these rules come from, anyway? Is there some kind of new wandering city council?"

"Mo says he heard a voice on the mountaintop, isn't that right?"

"Hey Mo, you been eating them rotten olives again?"

"Hey, now. What am I, chopped liver?"

"No, you're a putz."

"Go fig yourself."

"Oy, gevalt!"