A scoutmaster is out driving a country road near dusk, with his wife in the passenger seat. Suddenly a deer leaps out from the roadside and stands stock-still, frozen in the headlights. The scoutmaster hits the horn, but there’s no noise but the screeching of the car’s tires as it skids to a halt just short of the deer. The deer, finally recovering its wits, bounds away.
The scoutmaster puts the car in park, takes off his seatbelt, pops the hood and roots around in the engine compartment for a minute. He then returns to the driver’s seat, dusting off his hands in satisfaction.
“Did you fix the horn, honey?” his wife inquires.
He nods. “Beep repaired.”
— The Oldest Rater