05/15/2026 from Daily Jokes
#22159
The neon sign outside “The High Dive” buzzed softly, casting a warm amber glow over the polished mahogany bar. It was a quiet
Tuesday night, the kind where regulars sat in comfortable silence, nurses slowly melting glasses of bourbon and whiskey. Two men occupied stools near the far end. One, a broad-shouldered guy in a slightly rumpled trench coat, was methodically working his way through a second tall glass of something dark and potent. The other, a sharp-dressed businessman in a tailored suit, sipped his drink with quiet, professional restraint.
After a comfortable silence, the trench-coated man slid off his stool, dragged it over, and plopped down right next to the businessman.
He leaned in with the conspiratorial enthusiasm of someone who had just discovered a hidden treasure.
“This place is great, isn’t it?” he asked, voice slightly slurred but brimming with wonder.
The businessman blinked, caught off guard. He glanced around the quiet, dimly lit room. “Why do you say that?” he asked politely.
The man in the trench coat lowered his voice to a reverent whisper. “Follow me.”
Curiosity getting the better of him, the businessman set down his glass and followed. They walked past the dartboard, past the jukebox, and stopped at a massive floor-to-ceiling window at the very end of the room. Through the glass, the city sprawled out below, a glittering grid of streetlights and traffic twelve stories down.
“Here’s why,” the trench-coated man said. Before the businessman could react, he threw the heavy window latch, pushed the pane wide open, and stepped boldly out into the thin, chilly night air.
He didn’t fall.
Instead, he hovered. Suspended. Floating effortlessly above the alleyway like a leaf caught in a gentle updraft. He spread his arms wide, closed his eyes, and sighed with pure bliss.
“The air currents are incredible up here!” he called back, voice echoing slightly. “So smooth. So relaxing. You gotta try it!”
He drifted back through the open window, his boots touching the hardwood floor with a soft thud. He beamed at the businessman, gesturing grandly toward the open pane. “Go on! I promise, it’s life-changing.”
The businessman stepped cautiously to the edge. He looked down. Twelve stories. Concrete pavement. Zero visible wires. Zero glass panels. Zero safety nets. He looked left. Right. Up. Nothing. Just empty night sky.
His analytical mind raced. Magnetic fields? Hidden harnesses? Some kind of advanced drone rig? Convinced it had to be an elaborate, flawless illusion, he swallowed hard, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and stepped forward.
WHOOSH.
Gravity, as it turns out, was still very much in charge.
The businessman plummeted twelve stories, his fading scream swallowed by the roar of city traffic below. CRASH. Silence returned to the bar.
The trench-coated man sighed, shrugged, and shuffled back to his stool. He picked up his drink, took a long, slow sip, and stared blankly at the wall.
A moment later, the bartender slammed a wet rag down on the counter, marched over, and glared at him with exhausted, deeply unimpressed eyes.
“You know,” the bartender said, voice dripping with tired irritation.
“You’re a real jerk when you’re drunk, Superman.”
