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Pincus the tailor
Marcus and Yacov, two Hasidic Jews, went to Pincus the tailor for new suits.
"Pincus," Yacov said, "the last time we came to you for new suits, we told you we wanted black suits. The suits you made were not black. They were sort of dark grey maybe, but not black, we need new suits, and this time we want black suits, from the darkest cloth there is."
Pincus reached behind for a bolt of cloth and he said, "See this cloth? It is from this fabric that I make the habits for nuns. In all the world," Pincus said, fingering the bolt of fabric, "there is no blacker cloth than the cloth I make nun's habits from, and it is from this cloth that I'll make your new suits!"
A few weeks later the two Hasidic Jews were walking down the street in their new suits when they passed two nuns. Impulsively, on a whim, one of the men went up to one of the nuns. He grabbed her sleeve and held it up against his own.
Then, in an angry voice, he muttered something to his friend and they both walked on.
"What did that man want?" one nun asked the other.
"I don't know," she replied. "He looked at my garment, said something in Latin, and left."
"In Latin?" asked the first nun. "What did he say?"
He said, "Marcus, Pincus fuctus."
"Pincus," Yacov said, "the last time we came to you for new suits, we told you we wanted black suits. The suits you made were not black. They were sort of dark grey maybe, but not black, we need new suits, and this time we want black suits, from the darkest cloth there is."
Pincus reached behind for a bolt of cloth and he said, "See this cloth? It is from this fabric that I make the habits for nuns. In all the world," Pincus said, fingering the bolt of fabric, "there is no blacker cloth than the cloth I make nun's habits from, and it is from this cloth that I'll make your new suits!"
A few weeks later the two Hasidic Jews were walking down the street in their new suits when they passed two nuns. Impulsively, on a whim, one of the men went up to one of the nuns. He grabbed her sleeve and held it up against his own.
Then, in an angry voice, he muttered something to his friend and they both walked on.
"What did that man want?" one nun asked the other.
"I don't know," she replied. "He looked at my garment, said something in Latin, and left."
"In Latin?" asked the first nun. "What did he say?"
He said, "Marcus, Pincus fuctus."
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