Bob Stuart moved to Texas and bought a parrot for $10.00 from a pet shop in San Antonio owned by Lard Heep who agreed to deliver the parrot the next day.
The next day Mr Heep drove out to Mr Stuart's ranch and said, 'Real sorry Mr Stuart, but I have some bad news. Your parrot died.' 'Stuff happens,' replied Mr Stuart. 'Just give me my money back.' 'Fraid no can do, Mr Stuart. I went and gone and spent it.' said Mr Heep.
'No worries,' said Mr Stuart, 'Just bring me the dead parrot.''What ya gonna do with it? asked Mr. Heep. 'I'm going to raffle him off.' said Mr Stuart. 'You can't raffle off a dead parrot!' said Mr Heep. 'Sure I can - I just won't tell anybody he's dead.' said Mr Stuart.
A month later, Mr Heep met up with Mr Stuart. 'What happened with the dead parrot?' asked Mr Heep. 'I sold 500 raffle tickets at a dollar apiece. Most of 'em to poor Mexicans. And made a profit of $490,' Mr Stuart replied. 'Didn't anyone complain?' asked Mr Heep. 'Just the guy who won the raffle,' said Mr Stuart. 'So I gave him his dollar back and bought him a drink.'
Mr Stuart now works as an investment banker with Goldman Sachs. The parrot was a Norwegian Blue with lovely plumage and is no more.
