Two men crashed in a private plane on a South Pacific Island, a Mormon and a Presbyterian. Both survived without a scratch. The Presbyterian, being a practical fellow, brushed himself off and then proceeded to run all over the island to see if they had any chance of survival. When he returned, he rushed up to the Morman and screamed, "this island is deserted. There is no food or water. We are going to die!"
The Morman leaned back against the body of the wrecked plane, folded his arms and responded: "No we're not. I make over $250,000 a week."
The Presbyterian grabbed his friend and shook him, "Listen to what I am saying, we are on an uninhabited island. There is no food, no water. We are going to die!"
The Morman, unruffled, again responded, "No, I make over $250,000 a week."
Mystified, the Presbyterian was near hysteria. "For the last time, I'm telling you we are doomed. There is no one else on this island. There is no food. There is no water. We are, I repeat, we are going to die a slow and painful death!"
Unfazed, the Morman looked the other in the eyes and said: "Hear what I am telling you. Do not make me say this again. I make over $250,000 per week and I tithe to my church. My bishop will find us!
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