Stolen Broken Bowling Balls

(This story belongs to my brother, who is also my manager at the bowling alley where I work. This lady comes in demanding his help.)

Lady: “I need help! My car was stolen!”

Brother: “Your car was stolen?”

Lady: “Yes, come here!”

(They go outside and the lady points to her car.)

Brother: “Um, I thought you said it was stolen.”

Lady: “No, it’s broken! I need your help to fix it.”

Brother: “Well, ma’am, I’m not mechanically proficient. You’re going to need to call someone.”

Lady: “No, I need you to fix it.”

Brother: “Okay, what’s wrong with it?”

Lady: “There’s a bowling ball that is preventing it from starting.”

Brother: “Well… um… Okay, where’s the bowling ball?”

Lady: “In the trunk.”

Brother: “Well, why don’t you open the trunk and get it out?”

Lady: “I don’t know how.”

(My brother then opens the trunk and gets the bowling ball and she gets her “broken car” running.)

Brother: “Will that be all?”

Lady: “No, I want to go bowling.”