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Right in the middle of a grand theatrical performance one of the leading actors collapses, groaning, on stage. Responding to anxious requests for help from the manager a concerned huddle soon develops around him consisting, among others, of not a few eminent physicians who happen to be present in the auditorium. As they cluster round discussing possible diagnoses and treatments and the audience looks on enthralled, a voice rings out from the balcony:
"Give him an enema!"
The figures on stage pay no attention and carry on with their deliberations. For a second time the voice cries out:
"Give him an enema!"
The discussions on stage continue, perhaps becoming somewhat more heated, and more urgent. For a third time, louder than before, the voice comes:
"Give the poor man an enema!"
Exasperated, one of the figures on stage turns and addresses the source of the voice, a small wizened Jewish grandmother:
"My good woman", he says, "This man is gravely ill. How on earth would an enema help him?
“Vell, It vouldn’t hurt!!!”

What was that last one?      
Okay, I'll try another
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