Jeff visited the same confectionery every day after work, purchasing the same snowball each time, a sweet cream-filled pastry covered in shaved coconut. Each day the proprietor greeted him with the same friendly smile and nod, as he reached behind the same pristine unblemished counter to provide Jeff with his afternoon snack.
One day Jeff noticed a small poster on the window as he entered, shaking him from his automatic pilot reverie. A local boxer was offering to allow people to hit him for charity. He was raising money for a support group for veterans failed by the state. The event was to happen the very next day, during his daily sojourn for his sugary goodness.
The day game, and he saw what must be the stall for the generous pugilist. There was presently nobody kind enough, perhaps sadistic enough to assault the kindly-looking man for altruistic purposes. Once more shaken from his near fugue state by a sudden change to his daily routine, he engaged the candyman in conversation.
“How well has the young man done, collecting funds for the lonely veterans by allowing people to punch him?”
It was then that the sweet shop owner ruined the rest of his day:
”There was never a punchline.”