Subject: Tom Swifties (Page 4)

“I’m about to hit the golf ball,” Tom forewarned.

“Congratulations; you graduated,” said Tom diplomatically.

“Would you like to buy some cod?” asked Tom selfishly.

“I used to be a paratrooper,” Tom explained.

“I’ve run out of wool,” said Tom, knitting his brow.

“I’ve deduced that this is the right way,” said Tom pathologically.

 “My parents are called Billy and Nanny,” Tom kidded.

“That’s the last time I’ll stick my arm in a lion’s mouth,” the lion-tamer said off-handedly.

“This Bud’s for you,” said Tom lightly.

“There’s nothing wrong with demons,” Tom said implicitly.

“You have the right to remain silent,” said Tom arrestingly.

“Those bullets can’t hurt me,” said Tom blankly.

“I have three houses, and I’m going to buy another,” said Tom forebodingly.

“I’m swimming in the middle of Paris!” shouted Tom insanely.

“Don’t call me a oddball,” Tom replied evenly.

“We can’t let the fire die out,” Tom bellowed.

“I shall see to it well in advance,” said Tom tenderly.

“Who goes there!” the soldier called out haltingly.

“Can I become a chorister?” Tom inquired.

“If I die, you get everything,” said Tom willingly.

“This is the wrong tree,” Tom barked, as he climbed up.