Quasimodo advertises for a man to ring the bells. The next morning, a fellow comes in with no arms. Are you kidding? say Quasimodo. Im serious, the man says. Please, just give me a chance. Fine, says Quasimodo. Ring the bells. After all, who is Quasimodo to discriminate against the handicapped? The man runs up the stairs, takes a flying leap, rings one of the bells with his head—boing!—and collapses in a heap. Then he picks himself up, runs up the stairs again, and rings a different bell—boing! On the third try, however, he misses the bell completely, flies out the window, and falls on the ground, dead. Immediately, a crowd gathers around the body. When Quasimodo comes out, they say to him, Who was this man? I never knew his name, he replies, but his face rang a bell. The following day another man applies for the job, and he, too, has no arms. I had a guy come in yesterday, looked just like you, says Quasimodo. I know, says the man, he was my brother. Listen, this is a very dangerous job for a man with no arms, says Quasimodo. After what happened yesterday, I think you should go home. But the man refuses to leave, and eventually Quasimodo gives in and allows him to ring the bells. But exactly the same thing happens: the first two attempts are fine, but on the third try, he, too, goes flying out the window and falls dead on the ground. When Quasimodo comes out, they say, Who was *this* man? I never knew his name, comes the reply, but hes a dead ringer for his brother.

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