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In the Hospital the relatives gathered in the waiting room, where their family member lay gravely ill. Finally, the doctor came in looking tired and somber.

I'm afraid I'm the bearer of bad news," he said as he surveyed the worried faces. "The only hope left for your loved one at this time is a brain transplant. It's an experimental procedure, semi-risky and you will have to pay for the brain yourselves."

The family members sat silent as they absorbed the news. After a great length of time, someone asked, "Well, how much does a brain cost?" The doctor quickly responded, "$5,000 for a male brain, and $200 for a female brain."

The moment turned awkward. Men in the room tried not to smile, avoiding eye contact with the women, but some actually smirked. A man, unable to control his curiosity, blurted out the question everyone wanted to ask, "Why is the male brain so much more?"

The doctor smiled at the childish innocence and so to the entire group said, "It's just standard pricing procedure. We have to mark down the price of the female brains, because they've been used."

Many people remember the Shah of Iran, but few people remember his
cousin, the Shan of Iran. This is because the unfortunate Shan had been
subject to epilepsy since youth. It would have been a disasterous
embarrasment to the family if the Shan's ailment had become public
knowledge, so if anyone were present when he was struck by an attack of
epilepsy, the palace guards had standing orders that those people must be
killed immediately.
Now, it came to pass that a grand party was thrown by the Shan to
celebrate his wedding day, with many many guests in attendance. Yet
crule fate was not to be denied, and in the middle of the party the Shan
was sturck by another epileptic siezure. Some of the guests, haveing
heard rumors of people mysteriously disappearing when with the Shan,
realized what would come next and made immediately for the door, and a
few actually escaped before the palace guards gained control of the
crowd. The next day one of those who had escaped noticed someone else
he'd seen at the party. He walked over and asked discreetly, "I say,
where were you when the fit hit the Shan?"

A Babylonian general was declared a traitor for leading a revolt.
He escaped the night before he was to be executed and hid in an old
Babylonian ziggurat, or temple, where he expected to find some of his
associates. Not finding them, he began to burn the papers they had
left and was immediately recaptured.
Moral of the story--Warning! The searchin' general has determined
that smoking ziggurats may be hazardous to your stealth.