He’s a bit overprotective of them, so when Friday date night rolls around, he greets the gentlemen callers at the door with a shotgun over his shoulder.
Friday night rolls around, and the doorbell rings, so he walks to it, shotgun in hand, and opens it to a young man who says:
“Hi, I’m Freddy! I’m here to pick up Betty! We’re gonna go eat spaghetti! Is she ready?”
The farmer is a bit bewildered by this greeting, but he can’t see anything wrong with this guy, so he tells him: “ok, have her home by 10.”
A few minutes later, the doorbell rings again, and the farmer opens the door with his shotgun over his shoulder to a young man who says:
“Hi, I’m Jim! I’m here to pick up Kim! We’re gonna go for a swim! Can I come in?”
The farmer is again bewildered by the greeting, but again, he can’t see anything wrong with the guy, so he tells him:
“ok, have her home by 10, and no funny business in the pool.”
A few minutes later, the doorbell rings again, and the farmer opens the door with his shotgun over his shoulder to a young man who says:
“Hi, I’m Joe! I’m here to pick up Flo! We’re gonna go to a show! Can she go?”
By now, the farmer is completely dumbfounded by these greetings, but again, he can’t see anything wrong with the guy, so he tells him: “ok, have her home by 10.”
A few minutes later, the doorbell rings one last time, and the farmer opens the door with his shotgun over his shoulder to a young man who says:
“Hi, I’m Chuck—“ and the farmer shoots him.
