Times have been a bit tough lately, so I decided to pick up a part-time job on the weekends working for a local undertaker to bring in some extra cash. Last weekend, I came home with a massive, nasty black eye. My wife took one look at me and asked, "What on earth happened to you?" "I had an absolutely terrible day," I told her. "I got sent out on a call to a local hotel where a guest had passed away in his sleep. When I arrived, the hotel manager was in a total panic. He told me they couldn’t get the guy into the body bag because rigor mortis had set in, and his privates were sticking straight up in the air!" "Anyway," I continued, "I went upstairs to handle it. Sure enough, I walk in and there’s this huge guy lying on the bed completely naked. So, I just grabbed his privates with both hands and tried to forcefully bend it in half to break the rigor mortis!" My wife cringed and said, "Oh my god, that sounds awful! But wait... how does that explain how you got a black eye?" I sighed and said, "Wrong room!"