Three construction workers who were working on a 90-story building in Manhattan ate lunch with each other every day. They all brought brown-bagged lunches.
"This sure is getting old. The same egg-salad sandwiches every day, along with a bag of peanuts. If things don't change by tomorrow, I'm jumping off this beam," Jim said to his two friends.
"Yes, me too," Russ added. He always complained of a steady diet of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. If he was lucky, his wife threw in a couple of crackers.
"I'm joining you," Tom chimed in. "Crackers every day. Soup crackers. What the hell kind of lunch is that?!"
So the next day came and all three guys were hoping that they had a better lunch, since the morning was a rough one and the wind was blowing like crazy way up there near the clouds.
"I gave my wife the ultimatum about jumping off here if I don't have something good to eat," Russ said, and opening his lunch bag, saw that it contained three subs with pepperoni, hard salami, hot ham, and provolone cheese.
"Well I'm not jumping today," Russ said happily and began munching away.
Tom opened up his lunch bag and saw a great lunch. He, too, told his significant other about committing suicide if lunches weren't tasty "from here on in. AND THERE'S NO BONES ABOUT IT!" he screamed to her.
. . .The poor girl was so upset that she had a hard time sleeping and she rose a half hour early to get a good lunch together for "Kissy-Wissy-Baby," her pet name for Tom.
And Tom was happily surprised, finding the bag contained fried chicken nuggets, some sardines in mustard sauce, a couple slices of New York pizza, and three tasty little cakes.
"Well I'm not jumping," Tom said.
Jim looked into his bag and yelped, "Crackers again! Crackers, crackers, crackers, always crackers. Oh no, here I go!" - and he jumped.
Looking down at Jim splattered all over the street below, Russ began to cry and whimpered, "You'd think at least he'd get a good lunch. I feel so sorry for him and we're really going to have to hustle. He did the work of six men."
"Well he definitely was never the sharpest tool in the toolbox, you know that. Honestly, I don't feel sorry for Jim in the slightest," Tom snorted.
"How can you be so damned cold, Tom? The poor guy's mincemeat down there! And he was our friend."
"No, I don't feel sorry for that dumbass. Jim's a lifelong bachelor - I don't think he ever had a girlfriend - and that idiot always made and packed his own lunch."