There's a radio announcer in a major market in the American mid-west, a real professional. Some nights on his show he does a shtick where he takes knock-knock jokes from the audience.
One particular night he has a drunk on the line, the guy is obviously half in the bag. "Knock knock," the drunk begins. "Who's there?" the announcer asks. "Argo!" says the drunk. "Argo who?" offers the announcer.
The drunk completes the joke: "Argo 
yerself!!! Hawhawhawhaw-urop"
Well, the engineer fouls up the four-second delay, and the whole exchange goes out live on the air. There's a huge scandal, a lynch mob forms to string the announcer up, he has to flee, can never work in that market again. We take broadcast language seriously, out here in the fly-over.
The announcer is ruined, he winds up working on extremely rural stations, announcing cattle feed prices to all-night truckers. But he's a dedicated, committed professional. Patiently he rebuilds his career, works his way back up. After ten years, he's offered a day job on a real station in a major urban market. Heeee's baaaack!
And he's still doing the knock-knock joke shtick with his audience. They love it, he's known for this shtick. One night he's taking knock-knock jokes, and suddenly he realizes: he's got the same drunk on the line! The guy who ruined him ten years ago. He knows the voice immediately.
"Knock, knock," the drunk begins. "Who's there?" the announcer replies, while he waves frantically at the engineer. ("Technical trouble! I need to lose this guy right away, Harry!" But the engineer isn't watching.) "Petunias!" the drunk continues. "How bad can this be?" the announcer thinks, "at least he didn't say 'Argo'. Well, what the heck."
"Petunias who?
"Argo yerself!!!! Hawhawhawhaw-urop"
finishes his Temple project by painting the kit he previously assembled.
