An Explanation
In most cases, if you must explain a joke, there is a problem somewhere.
This is different because the joke is so old that younger ones may not know what some of the words mean.
Telephone
A telephone is an ancient communications device which handles only voice.
Note here that the device does not at all resemble the device you now use to communicate. Wires are involved.
Pay Telephone
A pay telephone is a public telephone located on street corners and in many shops, restaurants, etc.
You drop a coin in a slot and you can use the telephone. Note that at the time I heard this joke, a call cost a dime. Up from a nickel around 1960.
Note that you can call the operator for free.
For a long distance call, you put in even more money. The longer you talk, the more it cost.
It just hit me. More definition required. A “long distance” call is a call out of the local area.
All of this telephone stuff was way back in the old days, when I was about fifty or sixty years old.
Letter
A letter is a message written on one or more sheets of paper and placed in a hand written addressed envelope. It is then mailed at a post office.
You know, use a pen and paper. Maybe a typewriter.
If you need, “pen,” “paper,” or “typewriter” explained, you are on your own.
This may be difficult for younger ones to believe but some people still write letters.
At Last, the Joke
Mr. Apocalypse: Doctor, why the worried expression?
Doctor: I have some bad news.
Mr. Apocalypse (now with a worried expression): What?
Doctor: You have a rare disease. You have six months to live.
Mr. Apocalypse: Oh, my God, is there no hope?
Doctor: There is some hope, you have one chance.
Mr. Apocalypse: What?
Doctor: A cure is in sight. It should be available in the next few decades.
Mr. Apocalypse: Great! I have months and you are talking decades. What the hell good is that?
Doctor: We now have a new invention available. It will put you in a state of suspended animation for a hundred years. By that time, a cure will be available.
Mr. Apocalypse: Swell! I’ll be 140 years old. Probably be dead anyway.
Doctor: Absolutely not. You will be exactly the age you are now.
Mr. Apocalypse: Let’s do it.
Doctor: It’s a little expensive. One million dollars.
Mr. Apocalypse: I have it. I’ll come back tomorrow with the cash.
The next day
Mr. Apocalypse gives his stock broker fifty thousand dollars, all he has left after the million. He tells his broker the situation and says, “Do the best you can. See you in a hundred years.”
Mr. Apocalypse goes to the doctor, hands him a million bucks, and says, “Let’s do it.”
A hundred years later
Mr. Apocalypse wakes up.
Doctor: Mr. Apocalypse you are still forty years old and in perfect health. While you were asleep, you were cured.
Mr. Apocalypse is elated.
Doctor: We are holding a letter we recently received from your stock broker. You can pick it up on your way out.
Mr. Apocalypse reads the letter. He can’t control himself. He is rich beyond his wildest dreams. His account is now ten million dollars.
Mr. Apocalypse dashes to a pay telephone to call his broker and thank him.
He picks up the receiver and dials the operator.
He hears a voice on the other end, “For the first three minutes, please deposit $65,000.”
