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Dilbert and Dogbert sit at the table eating dinner. Dilbert says, "You shouldn't salt your food before tasting it." Dogbert replies, "It's a calculated risk . . ." Dogbert explains, "The average mouthful of food is five percent of the total serving." Dogbert continues, "So timid salters eat five percent of almost every meal with too little salt . . ." Dogbert continues, "Because only one time in a thousand is food too salty to begin with." Dogbert concludes, "Therefore, over a lifetime you experience almost five percent less salt-related happiness than I do." Dilbert replies, "Not necessarily. I usually salt my tongue after the first swallow."
Nasa Scientist 1: You will be with one other... Uh... Astronaut in a private room. You two will have no specific duties on this mission. I'll be monitoring you on video. Nasa Scientist 2: A nerd, a monkey, and one Nintendo at zero gravity... Pretty risky experiment. Nasa Scientist 1: To be honest, we were running low on good ideas.
Bob the Dinosaur says to Dogbert, "That's all Dilbert left you in his will? A gadget?" Dogbert replies, "I'm just the custodian." Bob says, "Maybe it's some kind of hyper-electronic induction transmutant geoplasmic nodal collectimizer." Dogbert replies, "Maybe . . . But I'm guessing bathroom soap dispenser." Bob picks up the device and asks, "Can I change my guess?"
Dogbert walks toward the Dog Doctor. The veterinarian says, "Hi, Dogbert. How are you?" Dogbert replies, "Not so good, Doc." Dogbert explains, "I have a bad case of 'happy tongue.'" The vet says, "Hmm . . . Is your tongue happy for any particular reason?" Dogbert replies, "No reason at all. I'm quite worried." The vet says, "I'm going to prescribe these tongue depressors. Use one every time your tongue gets too mirthful." Dogbert leaves the office humming. The doctor thinks, "I like that dog."
Dogbert sits on his pillow thinking, "Ugh . . . Gosh, what a nightmare." Dogbert says to Bob the Dinosaur, "Bob, I just dreamed Dilbert was killed by deer, and all he left me was his recipe for chile con carne." Bob says, "Bad news . . ." Dogbert asks, "He's really dead?" Bob replies, "And his chile con carne stinks."
Dilbert, who is naked, picks Dogbert up and says, "I'm alive!! I owe my life to you, Dogbert, for cloning me in the nick of time." Dogbert says, "According to ancient dog tradition, you must be my servant for life." Dogbert and Dilbert sit at a counter in a restaurant. Dogbert says, "Don't tell the ancient dogs I settled for a banana split."
Dilbert sits up in bed, groans and thinks, "It's 6 a.m. and time for another oppressive day of meaningless toil . . ." Dilbert thinks, "Wait . . . Today is Saturday . . ." Dilbert lies back down and thinks, "I am the happiest man on the planet earth."
Dogbert reads a letter and says, "What a stupid waste of my valuable time." Dilbert says, "It's your civic duty. It's the small dues you pay for living in a just and free society." Dogbert replies, "Big whoopee." Dilbert says, "And you get to play God with other people's lives." Dogbert says, "Well, they should say that in the letter."
The defense lawyer says, "Okay, let's say that, hypothetically, my client did kill those people . . ." His client is holding an ax and wearing an executioner's hat. The attorney says to Dilbert and the other members of the jury, "Chances are that it was nobody you know." The lawyer continues, "And the next time you're standing in a long line, ask yourself: 'Am I better off now that there are less people?'"