...Two poets die at the same time and float up to heaven. At the Pearly Gates, they meet St. Peter, who explains that there is room for only one more poet in heaven. The two puzzled poets say, “We both are good people, and we both deserve to stay here in heaven!” St. Peter says, “I know, but the highest place is too crowded. I will think of a game plan, a challenge to see which of you two will remain in eternal bliss.” St. Peter thinks for a while and finally tells the two poets that they must each write a poem on the topic of Timbuktu. The first poet stands up and says, “I have a poem!” St. Peter says, “Go ahead with your poem.” “On days of your, on a distant shore, three ships come into view, their destination Timbuktu.” St. Peter’s eyes light up, clapping his hands, and he goes on and on about how good the poem is, and that no one can top it. The second poet is pissed and explains, “that is a good poem, but let me see if I can beat it, you mother-fucker!” The second poet thinks for a while. He pops up with a smile and shouts, “I have a poem!” St. Peter says, “Go ahead with your poem.” “Tim and I a camping we went. There we spied three ladies in a tent. Since they were three and we were two, I bucked one and Tim buck two!