Many moons ago...
I was driving across the Nevada desert with my sister returning from our grandma's funeral (no, it wasn't granny that I killed--read on.) As one might expect, the mood was a bit somber, with occasional sniffles coming from the passenger side of the car and "there, there" from my side.

Sis had just started another bit of waterworks when WHAP! a large brown bird flew into the windscreen directly in front of her. At 70+ mph it was instantly lights out for Mr. Feathers. Sis, being already a bit emotionally ragged, was now sobbing over the death of this innocent creature.

Having run out of "there, theres" about 150 miles prior I decided to take a different tack in soothing her. I asked, "Do you have any idea of the last thing that went through that bird's mind?"

"No," she replied.

"Well, at that speed, I think it was probably his butt."

For the rest of the trip any impending tears were soon followed by giggles and a muttered "His butt!"

Result!
(grundig Down goes Frazier! Down goes Frazier!, Fri 23 Dec 2011, 21:25, Reply)