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View Full Version : Van Der Merwe joke (South Africa)


tomvanmigem
7th Dec 2001, 12:26
Here's a joke I heard from a South African pilot no too long ago. Longish, but priceless.

(Thanks to Kobus Viljoen. Yerrslakk, man!)

A few years ago Wessels Van Der Merwe (a really well-known Afrikaans character in South Africa) decided to invite an old friend from England to visit his home for a few weeks during the summer. Seeing as it was the first time the Englishman was visiting Africa, Van Der Merwe planned to impress him by showing him around the countryside during a small trek in the bush. Of course, Wessels being who he was, the trek was planned into unfamiliar territory full of jungle plantation requiring lots of equipment and logistics, none of which he had the remotest idea.

So, the Englishman and Van Der Merwe set off into the buntu in high spirits, knapsack on their back and jerrycan filled with water in the direction of the thickest part of the jungle Wessels knew about. Pretty soon the going got tough, and then even tougher, and finally they both got so tired they had to settle down to rest for a while, Wessels completely out of breath but not willing to show it.

While drinking their water and talking shop about the price of bananas in Ireland, they both failed to notice a tribe of cannibals that had quietly surrounded them and were promptly captured, tied up and dragged back to a cannibal village nearby. The village chief, heavily bored with his everyday rituals of decapitating wild pigs and small rodents for fun, was slightly more bemused with the bewildered duo and immediately clapped his hands as a signal to prepare the evening feast. Van Der Merwe and the Englishman were promptly and unceremoniously undressed, buttered and stuck in a big cauldron together with a multitude of vegetables and spices. The fire under the cauldron was lit and the villagers began their traditional dances around the fire to thank their gods for the coming gift.

Wessels, starting to feel the heat and therefore starting to fear he would miss the rest of the summer braai's in the coming weeks, turned to the Englishman first and reassured him that all this was a normal greeting procedure in South Africa. Then he turned to the village chief and started to recount how he had been sick as a child and that his flesh would taste, let alone the diseases that the Englishman might have brought with him from over the big lake...
After a period of reflection, the village chief decided to postpone the feast, on condition that Van Der Merwe and the Englishman return to the jungle accompanied by his men to find anything else that the chief hadn't tasted before.

Overjoyed, Van Der Merwe and his buddies set out into the thickett at a trot in the opposite direction to the Englishman. Not far out of the village, the trail opened out into a shadowy clearing, just big enough to hold some of the BIGGEST watermelons Van Der Merwe had EVER seen! They were at least twice the size of normal watermelons and were soft to the touch, indicating they were ripe and juicy to eat. Van Der Merwe picked up three of the biggest ones he could carry and started back to the village accompanied by his spear-carrying mates.

Upon entering the village and staggering to the village chief, Van Der Merwe gently laid down his trophies at the chief's feet and smiled a winner's smile... which quickly removed itself when he saw the chief's disgruntled face. Waving his hand in a pooh-pooh gesture the chief passively mentioned he had eaten those watermelons two days before.
Stunned, Van Der Merwe turned to the boiling pot, back to the chief, back to the pot...
Suddenly, the chief smiled and said that Wessels would be spared if... and only if... he could shove each and every watermelon up his ass without laughing. Van Der Merwe, stunned even more, gulped as he saw the size of the watermelons and started unconsciously rubbing his backside with uncomfortable firmness. But the alternative was clear.

Van Der Merwe picked up the first watermelon and heftily lobbed it from one hand to the other, testing its weight. He gulped again and pleadingly looked over to the chief. No response except a raised eyebrow.
Grunting and groaning, Van Der Merwe started to push the watermelon slowly but surely up his ass, keeping as straight a face as he could. The chief's face slowly began to change from a dark frown to a bemused grin as he watched the spectacle unfold before him, and some of the villagers surrounding them were already starting to laugh in unison.
After an hour, the first watermelon was snugly in place and Van Der Merwe slowly turned to reach for the next watermelon, the beads of perspiration appearing in droplets on his face. Not a smile or a smirk had been seen on Van Der Merwe's face and the spectacle continued. Firmly grasping the second watermelon, he bent over and positioned it before heaving a big breath...

By now the chief was laughing openly with the other villagers and couldn't keep a straight face every time he saw poor Van Der Merwe struggling with his trophies. Even if the white man were to complete the impossible task, the dinner that would follow would be the best he had ever tasted, dessert included in the main course! Watching Van Der Merwe roll about the village center in sheer agony, it was too much to hold back the hoots and bellows and by the time the second watermelon had found its mark, the chief had fallen off his throne with uncontrollable gut convulsions.

Van Der Merwe, his eyes swollen with tears and the rest just swollen, regarded the third watermelon with absolute horror and turned to the practically incapacitated chief for a last chance at getting off the hook.
Looking past the chief's shoulder, he suddenly stopped, gazed with amazement and suddenly threw a fit of laughter that shook his whole body! The mirthful shrieks of Van Der Merwe caught the chief by surprise, causing him to stare in disbelief at this white man who had performed a miracle, and asked Van Der Merwe why on Earth he had started to laugh just at the moment when he might have been released?

Van Der Merwe, drying the tears from his face and between body shakes pointing behind the chief, said:
"Look, there's that stupid Englishman returning from the jungle with a load of prickly pears in his hands!"

(A prickly pear is the fruit of a cactus :-)