The CIA had an opening for an assassin. After all of the background checks, interviews and testing were
done there were three finalists: An American man,an English man and a Jamaican man.
For the final test, the CIA agents took the American man to a large metal door and handed him a gun. "We must know that you will follow our instructions, no matter what the circumstances. Inside this room you will find your wife sitting in a chair. You have to kill her."
The American said "You can't be serious. I could never shoot my wife" The Agent replies," Then you're
not the right man for this job."
The English man was given the same instructions. He took the gun and went into the room. All was quiet
for about five minutes. Then the English man came out with tears in his eyes "I tried blokes, but I can't
kill my wife," The Agent replies, "You don't have what it takes, take your wife and go home."
Finally, it was the Jamaican's turn, he took the gun and went into the room. Shots were heard, one shot
after another. Then they heard screaming, crashing, banging on the walls. After a few minutes, all was
quiet. The door opened slowly and there stood the Jamaican. He wiped the sweat from his brow and said
"Unnuh neva tell mi di bloodclaat gun was loaded wid blanks!!", " A beat mi haffi beat har bloodclaat to death
wid di rass chair!!"
done there were three finalists: An American man,an English man and a Jamaican man.
For the final test, the CIA agents took the American man to a large metal door and handed him a gun. "We must know that you will follow our instructions, no matter what the circumstances. Inside this room you will find your wife sitting in a chair. You have to kill her."
The American said "You can't be serious. I could never shoot my wife" The Agent replies," Then you're
not the right man for this job."
The English man was given the same instructions. He took the gun and went into the room. All was quiet
for about five minutes. Then the English man came out with tears in his eyes "I tried blokes, but I can't
kill my wife," The Agent replies, "You don't have what it takes, take your wife and go home."
Finally, it was the Jamaican's turn, he took the gun and went into the room. Shots were heard, one shot
after another. Then they heard screaming, crashing, banging on the walls. After a few minutes, all was
quiet. The door opened slowly and there stood the Jamaican. He wiped the sweat from his brow and said
"Unnuh neva tell mi di bloodclaat gun was loaded wid blanks!!", " A beat mi haffi beat har bloodclaat to death
wid di rass chair!!"
