“Why don’t you wait till your husband gets home?” someone asked.

“I could,” my mother told the group,” but the couch is easier to move if he’s not on it.”

Then one day a cowboy rushed in shouting, “Big John’s a-comin’!” In his hurry to get out, he knocked the small bartender to the floor. Before the bartender could recover, in came a giant of a man with a black, bushy beard. He rode in through the swinging doors on the back of a buffalo, using a rattlesnake for a whip. The man tore the doors off of their hinges, knocked over tables, and slung the rattlesnake into the corner. “Gimme a drink,” he yelled as he split the bar in half with a pound of his massive fist. The bartender nervously pushed a bottle toward the man. He bit off the top of the glass bottle with his teeth, chugged the contents in one gulp and turned to leave.

Realizing that the man wasn’t hurting anyone, the bartender asked if he’d like another drink. “Ain’t got no time,” the man roared. “Big John’s a comin’ to town.”

So he climbed out of the hole and went to his boss. “Why are we digging in the hot sun and you’re standing in the shade?”

“Intelligence,” the boss said. “What do you mean, ‘intelligence’?”

The boss said, “Well, I’ll show you. I’ll put my hand on this tree and I want you to hit it with your fist as hard as you can.” The guy took a mighty swing and tried to hit the boss’ hand. The boss removed his hand and the guy hit the tree. The boss said, “That’s intelligence!”

The guy went back to his hole. His friend asked, “What did he say?”

“He said we are down here because of intelligence.”

“What’s intelligence?” said the friend.

The guy put his hand on his face and said, “Take your shovel and hit my hand.”