Rabbi Nussbaum has been attending a rabbi’s convention in Chicago. When it is over, he checks out of his hotel and gets all the way to the station before realizing that he has left his umbrella behind. When he gets back to the hotel, he finds that his room has already been taken by a newlywed couple.
He is about to knock on the door, when he hears a man’s voice say, “Whose little lips are these?”
“Yours, dear, yours,” says a female voice coyly.
“And whose little tits are these?” says the man.
“Yours, darling, yours,” squeals the girl.
“And whose little hips are these?” he croons.
“Yours, darling, yours!” she gasps.
“Hey!” shouts Rabbi Nussbaum through the keyhole, “when you get to the umbrella, remember, it is mine!”