Poet In Heaven

Scott McDougal, who died as a poet, is standing at the gates of heaven.

"I am Scott McDougal, the poet," he says to the gatekeeper.

"I'm sorry," replies the gatekeeper, "I've no idea who you are."

"But I am Scott McDougal the poet," replies the stricken man.

"Sorry," says the gatekeeper, "but I can't let you in unless I know who you are."

The gatekeeper then directs the man to two men, "Listen, go over there to the poet's corner and those two might be able to help you out."

So McDougal strolls dejectedly to the corner where he is greeted by Wordsworth and Shakespeare who are enjoying a drink together.

"I am Scott McDougal, the poet," he says.

"No, sorry, but we've heard of you not, maybe if you recited a line from one of your poems we might remember you."

So McDougal starts off, "Down by the river, stood my friend Andy, I knew it was him, because his legs were bandy."

Wordsworth replies, "No, no, no, surely that should be, 'down by the lake, a young man strode, his gait was awkward, his legs were bowed.'"

All of a sudden Shakespeare perks up and says, "No no no, Will, surely it should be, 'forsooth my liege, what man is this, who's balls hang in parenthesis!'"