A secret agent is parachuted into a Welsh town to meet his contact.
He’s got very little to go on; he just knows his contact’s name is Jones.
He steps into the high street – and sees to his dismay that every shop has the name Jones above it.
He tries the first shop and speaks to the shopkeeper: “The wind blows cold through Moscow tonight.” The shopkeeper gives him a blank look, so he repeats it.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Your name is Jones?”
“Yes, but I’m Jones the butcher. You must be looking for a different Jones!”
So he tries the shop next door: “The wind blows cold through Moscow tonight.” The shopkeeper again doesn’t know what he’s talking about.
“Your name is Jones?”
“Yes, but I’m Jones the greengrocer. You must be looking for a different Jones!”
And so it goes for hours, in and out of shops, sidling up to people in the street, and he speaks to dozens of Jones’ but still can’t find the Jones he’s looking for.
He decides to have one last try in the last shop in the street. He goes in and whispers to the shopkeeper:
“The wind blows cold through Moscow tonight.”
“Eh?”
“Your name is Jones?”
“Yes, but I’m Jones the boot mender. You must be looking for a different Jones!”
He finally breaks down in tears. “I’ve been up and down the street a hundred times! I’ve met Jones the baker, Jones the van, Jones the blacksmith, Jones the milkman, Jones the police, Jones the carpenter -
I’ve been in and out of every shop, I must have spoken to every Jones in the town –
but I still can’t find the Jones I’m looking for!
All I know is, I’ve to meet him and give him the secret password: The wind blows cold through Moscow tonight.”
The boot mender’s face lights up: “Ah, you want Jones the spy!”
Topic: Mr Jones (Read 172 times)