My parents moved to Las Vegas in the mid 70’s. Just after doing so, they realized that, being early into their marriage, they hadn’t yet written their wills. They went to a local law firm to get it done, and were assigned to young attorney named Harry Reid.
Two months passed and they still hadn’t heard anything about this simple job. Then, Reid called my dad to explain that the wills weren’t done yet because his secretary “had shot herself in the finger.” Another month passed before they got a call saying that they could come in and sign their finished wills.
As my parents sat in Reid’s office looking over the papers, a senior partner in the firm passed by the door and, looking in, shouted, “Harry, you took so damn long on those wills, don’t you dare charge them a dime for it!” So my parents got their wills, written by Harry Reid, for free.
Gently Hew Stone 
Is this where I post that I was in a car wreck half-dead, and Harry Reid pulled me out of the burning car, perform CPR to bring air back into my lungs, and rode with me in the ambulance. Didn’t happen but I thought it would make a good rebuttal.
Too bad the secretary was such a bad shot.
Mitch, great story! You should make campaign ads for Reid. Actually, Reid’s real ads make him look far more amazing that that. You’ll need to butch it up a bit.
“Too bad the secretary was such a bad shot.”
That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard today. Mitch’s rebuttal reminds me of the farmer’s 3-legged pig. The pig performed the same multitude of life saving feats as Reid. Saved the farmer’s family from drowning, fires, tornados, you name it. A neighbor finally asked the farmer if the pig had lost it’s limb during one of its many episodes of derring-do, and the farmer explained, “No. A pig like that, you just can’t eat all at one time.”