Meanest man in County Cork dies and the kind-hearted
pastor of his church, preparing to say the funeral mass, can't think of single
nice thing to say about the curmudgeon in his eulogy.
So he asks around town, looking for anyone who has one
good word for the deceased to say at the mass, and finds no takers. He gets the
idea to call over to the church in the village where the old man was born,
figuring that there might be someone there who remembers him from when he was a
boy and who might then have at least one fond memory to impart. The priest over
there is a very old man himself, and he grew up with the dear departed and
offers to come to the funeral and say the nicest thing he can think of.
Day of the funeral comes, the old priest arrives, it's
time for him to give the eulogy. He totters up to the pulpit, looks out at the
very few people who've bothered to show up, and says the one nice thing there
is to say about the dead old man:
"His
brother was worse."
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