Quasimodo dies

[Thebringeroftruth]

After Quasimodo's death, the bishop of the Cathedral of Notre Dame sent
word through the streets of Paris that a new bell ringer was needed.
The
bishop decided that he would conduct the interviews personally and went
up
into the belfry to begin the screening process. After observing
several
applicants demonstrate their skills, he had decided to call it a day.
Just
then, an armless man approached him and announced that he was there to
apply
for the bellringer's job. The bishop was incredulous. "You have no
arms!"

"No matter," said the man "Observe!" And he began striking the bells
with
his face, producing a beautiful melody on the carillon.

The bishop listened in astonishment; convinced he had finally found
a
replacement for Quasimodo. But suddenly, rushing forward to strike a
bell, the armless man tripped and plunged headlong out of the belfry
window
to his death in the street below.

The stunned bishop rushed to his side. When he reached the street, a
crowd
had gathered around the fallen figure, drawn by the beautiful music
they had
heard only moments before. As they silently parted to let the bishop
through, one of them asked, "Bishop, who was this man?"

"I don't know his name," the bishop sadly replied, "but his face
rings a
bell."

WAIT! WAIT!

There's more . . .
The following day, despite the sadness that weighed heavily on his
heart
due to the unfortunate death of the armless campanologist, the bishop
continued his interviews for the bell ringer of Notre Dame. The first
man to
approach him said, "Your Excellency, I am the brother of the poor
armless
wretch that fell to his death from this very belfry yesterday. I pray
that
you honour his life by allowing me to replace him in this duty."

The bishop agreed to give the man an audition, and, as the armless
man's
brother stooped to pick up a mallet to strike the first bell, he
groaned,
clutched at his chest, twirled around, and died on the spot. Two
monks,
hearing the bishop's cries of grief at this second tragedy, rushed up
the
stairs to his side. "What has happened? Who is this man?" the first
monk
asked breathlessly.

"I don't know his name," sighed the distraught bishop, "but...

( . . . Your Gonnaa Luv This . . . )
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(. . . . Wait For It . . . .)
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(. . . It's worth it. . )
.......
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.......
.......
he's a dead ringer for his brother!!!"