Mary was such a sweetheart. A pillar of the community, always doing good deeds, everyone in town just loved her. Mr. Jones across the hall loved her too. He always enjoyed coming over for breakfast and a little morning conversation, and Mary found him to be good company.
Then one sad morning, sadly, Mr. Jones passed away. Everyone was surprise to learn that Mr. Jones had quite a bit of money. So much so, that he actually had a clone of himself made at the lab. A way for Mr. Jones to leave his legacy behind, and a way to look after Mary, after he was gone. The clone was exactly like him in every way, looked like him, sounded like him, all but one little difference. The clone was noticeably more impatient then the original.
And so when the breakfast conversations with sweet Mary picked up again she too noticed a slight change. It was subtle at first, but as the days went by Mr. Jones’s clone began to get a little nastier with each visit. Eventually a few four letter words would slip in, and he grew louder and more impatient with each visit. Poor Mary was beside herself. She didn’t know what to do, she did enjoy their time, and she didn’t want to betray the wishes of original Mr. Jones.
One particularly troublesome morning Mr. Jones stormed over to find Mary having tea on the patio. He paced back and forth, spouting off about the politics of the day, and letting the vulgarities fly with no holding back. Finally, Mary stood up, looked at Mr. Jones and shouted with all her might: “ENOUGH OF THAT LANGUAGE IN MY HOUSE!”
Mr. Jones was so startled that he stumbled back, hit the railing, flipped over and fell eight stories to his death. Splat.
At the local courthouse, the judge was quite shocked to see Sweet Mary appear with her defense attorney.
“What could possibly be the charge against her?”
The prosecutor spoke up, “Your honor, she is charged with one count. Making an obscene clone fall”.