An old man is lying on his deathbed with his children, grandchildren, and older great-grandchildren all around, teary-eyed at the approaching finale of a very long and productive life. The old man is in a terminal coma, and the doctors have confirmed that the waiting will be over within the next twenty-four hours. Suddenly, the old man opens his eyes and croaks: "I must be dreaming of heaven! I smell your grandmother's strudel!"
"No, grandfather, you are not dreaming. Grandmother is baking strudel now."
"I know I will never have another taste of her delicious strudel after this one. Could you please go down and get me a piece?", the old man begs with what is left of his final breath.
One of the grandchildren is immediately dispatched to honor the old man's last request. After a long time, he returns empty-handed.
"Did you bring me one last piece of your grandmother's delicious strudel?" the old man plaintively queries.
"I'm very sorry, grandfather, but she says it's for the funeral."
If you can see Chuck Norris, he can see you. If you can't see Chuck Norris, you may be only seconds away from death.