Three construction workers have taken a break for lunch atop the skeleton of a skyscraper they've been working on. The Irishman opens his lunch box and shouts, "Saints preserve us, not corned beef and cabbage again. I swear, if the wife makes me this again tomorrow I'll jump."
The Frenchman open his lunch box and exclaims, "Croissants? Again? Merde, but if she makes me this again tomorrow, I too shall jump."
The Pollock open his, and sure enough, it's cold sausage just like he gets every day. "Dammit it all, guys!" he rants, "Enough is enough so I'm with youse two."
The next day arrives, and the Irishman pops open the box, shakes his head in sorrow, and jumps. The Frenchman takes one look at HIS lunch, and follows his friend off of the building. The Polish fellow closes his eyes, takes a deep breath before opening his lunch, but...sausages again so he jumps too.
Several days later all three wives are standing at the entrance to the funeral parlor and discussing how dreadful the last few days have been for them.
"Poor Pierre," the first wife laments, "If he'd only told me I'd have made him something else."
"Ah to be sure," the Irish wife agrees. "Poor old Mike would'a just had to say peep and I'd a made him whatever he asked for."
The third wife has been listening to all of this, shaking her head as if in disbelief over this tragic turn of events.
"I don't understand." She finally says to the other two women. "Every day, day after day, Stashy make his own lunch."
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