In article ,
Grimly Curmudgeon writes:
We were somewhere around Barstow, on the edge of the desert, when the
drugs began to take hold. I remember Harry Bloomfield
saying something like:

Good inventive answers please, for the next salesman that knocks at our
door and asks '...are you the home owner?'

No, I'm just house-sitting while the owner's inside for hacking a
salesman to pieces.

or "No, I buried him under the patio"

--
Andrew Gabriel
[email address is not usable -- followup in the newsgroup]