A nice, calm and respectable lady went into the pharmacy, right up to the pharmacist, looked straight into his eyes, and said, “I would like to buy some cyanide.”

The pharmacist asked, “Why in the world do you need cyanide?”

The lady replied, “I need it to poison my husband.”

The pharmacists eyes got big and he exclaimed, “Lord have mercy! I can’t give you cyanide to kill your husband! That’s against the law! I’ll lose my license! They’ll throw both of us in jail! All kinds of bad things will happen. Absolutely not! You CANNOT have any cyanide!”

The lady reached into her purse and pulled out a picture of her husband in bed with the pharmacist’s wife.

The pharmacist looked at the picture and replied, “Well now. That’s different. You didn’t tell me you had a prescription.”

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  1. A man goes to his pharmacist and says, “I’d like a condom with insecticide.”

    “You mean spermicide.” The pharmacist corrects him.

    “I mean fucking insecticide! My wife has a bug up her ass and I’m going in after it!”

  2. I can see the lady now… old and unsteady, her rheumatic fingers dipping into a tote as big as her hunched torso. She retrieves an ornate golden picture frame, certainly the only respectable way one should carry a photo – even one as painful as this. As she gazes upon the pharmacist’s face, her wavering hand stretches the frame toward him, and his eyes widen with the realization.

    This is a perfectly presented prescription… for murder.

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