The Boy And The Branch

Here's another post from my catch-up series, explained here. It's May 19th, despite the date on the post. And this story is not from Inside Jokes but a variant that the earlier story reminded me of--probably dated to the early 1960's. It's way, way beyond politically incorrect, but it's the way that I heard it, and that's the way I'll tell it. People who find their sensibilities offended by racist, sexist or other -ist forms of humor, but for some reason the two categories don't meet in my head, and a good joke is good--and sometimes better--when it's something you would not want to tell in public.

A little colored kid (as we would call them in them days) is walking along the edge of a cliff, when it gives way. Suddenly he finds himself hanging on to a branch growing from the sheer rock face, two hundred feet above a jumble of sharp rocks.
"Help! Help!" He cries. But there's no one around.
"Help me Lord! Please help me!" He calls out.
Suddenly there's a burst of thunder, the sound of trumpets and he's bathed in light. And he hears a Voice say: "Little nigger boy, let go of the branch."
"Lord, I can't do that! If I let go, I'll be killed!"
"Little nigger boy," the Voice repeats, "let go of the branch."
"Lord, I can't. I can't"
"Little nigger boy," says the Voice. "Do you believe in me?"
"Yes, Lord," the boy says. "Of course I do."
"Then let go of the branch," says the Voice.
"OK," the boy says, hesitantly. He lets go of the branch, falls two hundred feet and splatters on the rock below.
There's a long pause. Then the Voice speaks.
"I hate niggers," says the Voice.