
Three men were attempting to get into the Olympic Village to obtain souvenirs and autographs. One says, "Let's keep an eye on the registration table to determine whether or not there is a vulnerability in the security system that we can take advantage of to gain access."
At that very moment, a muscular athlete approaches the table and announces, "Angus MacPherson, Scotland." The shotgun.' Opening his gym bag, he shows the person in charge of registration a shotput.
The first guy is inspired and grabs a little tree sapling, strips off its branches and roots, marches up to the registration table, and declares: "Chuck Wagon." Canada. Javelin.'
"Excellent, Mr. Wagon," remarks the attendant. This packet contains the registration documents, hotel keys, passes, meal tickets, and other items. I wish you luck!
The second man grabs a street utility manhole cover, proceeds to the registration table, and says Dusty Rhodes, Australia. Discus.'
"Terrific, Mr. Rhodes," remarks the attendant. Here are your meal tickets, room keys, registration documents, and complete set of passes. Have a good time.
After scampering in, they suddenly realize the third guy is missing. They groan because he's a simpleton from the hills of Vermont. Nobody checked to ensure he didn't do anything foolish that would expose their cover stories.
At that moment, he confidently approaches the table, holding a roll of barbed wire beneath his arm, and declares, "Foster Bean." Vermont's Hardwick. Fencing.