Advice from lawyers
George and Lenny decide to cross North America in a hot air balloon. However, neither were particularly experienced balloonists, and Lenny's mind quickly drifted from navigation to thoughts of how clouds look like cuddly little bunny rabbits. Upon realizing that they were lost, George declared, "Lenny -- we are going to have to lose some altitude so we can figure out where we are."

George lets some hot air out of the balloon, which slowly descended below the clouds, but he still couldn't tell where they were. Far below, they could see a man on the ground. George lowered the balloon, to ask the man their location.

When they were low enough, George called down to the man, "Hey, can you tell us where we are?" The man on the ground yelled back, "You're in a balloon, about 100 feet up in the air."

George Called down to the man, "You must be a lawyer." "Gee, George," Lenny replied, "How can you tell?" George answered, "Because the advice he gave us is 100% accurate, and is completely useless".

The man called back up to the balloon, "You must be a client." George yelled back, "Why do you say that?" "Well," the man replied, "you don't know where you are, or where you are going. You got into your predicament through a lack of planning, and could have avoided it by asking for help before you acted. You expect me to provide an instant remedy. The fact is you are in the exact same position you were in before we met, but now it is somehow my fault."

A tourist wanders into a back-alley antique shop...
A tourist wanders into a back-alley antique shop in San Francisco's Chinatown. Picking through the objects on display he discovers a detailed bronze sculpture of a rat. The sculpture is so interesting and unique that he picks it up and asks the shop owner the price. "Twelve dollars for the rat, sir," says the shop owner, "and an extra thousand for the story behind it." "At that price, you can keep the story, old man," he replies, "but I'll take the bronze rat." The transaction complete, the tourist leaves the store with the bronze rat under his arm. As he crosses the street in front of the store, two live rats emerge from a sewer drain and fall into step behind him. Nervously looking over his shoulder, he begins to walk faster, but every time he passes another sewer, more rats come out and follow him. By the time he's walked two blocks, at least a hundred rats are at his heels, and people begin to point and shout. He walks even faster, and soon breaks into a trot as multitudes of rats swarm from sewers, basements, vacant lots, and abandoned cars... following him. Rats by the thousands are at his heels, and as he sees the waterfront at the bottom of the hill he panics and starts to run full tilt. No matter how fast he runs, the rats keep up, squealing hideously now not just thousands but millions, so that by the time he comes racing to the water's edge a trail of rats twelve blocks long is behind him. Making a mighty leap, he jumps up onto a lamp post, grasping it with one arm, while he hurls the bronze rat into San Francisco Bay as far as he can throw it. Pulling his legs up and clinging to the post, he watches in amazement as the seething tide of rats surges over the breakwater into the sea, where they drown. Shaken and mumbling, he makes his way back to the antique shop. "Ah sir, you've come back for the story," says the owner. "No," says the tourist, "I was just hoping you had a bronze sculpture of a lawyer "