None. They're convinced that the power will come back on soon.
Three. One to ---- ------- ----- and another to ---- ----- ---- while ---- ---- - - -----with a ------
Eleven. One to change the lightbulb, five to show earlier versions that influenced it, and five to say that the changing was actually done by the changer's apprentice.
Just one. But he wants to do it thirty-two times and when he's done everyone thinks that his last lightbulb was much better.
At least five. The Germans to start it, the French to give up really easily after only trying for a little while, the Italians to make a start, get nowhere, and then try again from the other side, the Americans to turn up late and finish it off and take all the credit, and the Swiss to pretend nothing out of the ordinary is happening.
Three. One to change it and two to have a debate about whether this is the right time of year to be putting in lightbulbs or daffodil bulbs.
One. Two. ...And a-one two three four!
Two. One to screw in all the bulbs he has until he finds one that fits, and the other to tell you he thinks he'll have to replace the whole socket.
One. Plus or minus three
Two. But it's actually the same person doing it. He went back in time and met himself in the doorway and then the first one sat on the other one's shoulder so that they were able to reach it. Then a major time paradox occurred and the entire room, lightbulb, changer and all was blown out of existence. They co-existed in a parallel universe, though.
Three. One to change it and two to argue about how old the old one is.
A VAST AND TEEMING HORDE STRETCHING FROM SEA TO SHINING SEA!!!
Two. One to take out the bulb and drop it, and the other to try and sell it before it crashes
Does it have to be a lightbulb?
The last time this question was asked, it involved art directors. Is the difference intentional? Should one or the other instance be changed? It seems inconsistent.
None. The sockets all went with the house.
Fifty-four. Eight to argue, one to get a continuance, one to object, one to demur, two to research precedents, one to dictate a letter, one to stipulate, five to turn in their time cards, one to depose, one to write interrogatories, two to settle, one to order a secretary to change the bulb, and twenty-eight to bill for professional services.
You don't know?
Two. One to change the bulb and one to hold the penis - uh - I mean, ladder.
None. It's not the lightbulb that needs changing.
Ring ring…ring ring…ring ring…ring ring…
None, it's a waste of time because the new bulb probably won't work either.
None. The keyboardist does it with his left hand.
Light bulbs are irrelevant. Darkness is irrelevant. Changing them is futile.
Four. One to change it, one to sing about how heartbroken he is at the loss of the old one, one to sing about how madly in love she is with the new one, and one to go 'Yeeeee-Hah!' and throw his hat in the air.
Three. One to curse the darkness One to light a candle And one to change the bulb
Five. One to get into position to screw it in, one to kick the legs out from under him, one to snatch the lightbulb and pass it to his mate, who then goes and screws it in over the other side of the room, and one to roll around on the floor pretending to be really injured.
Two. One to hold the giraffe and the other to fill the bathtub with brightly colored machine tools.
Who wants to know?
Five. While Cinnamon creates a diversion by wearing a skimpy dress, I use a tiny narcotic dart to knock out the fascist dictator and remove his body. Rollin, wearing a plastic mask, masquerades as the dictator long enough for Barney to sneak up to the next floor, drill a hole down into the light fixture, remove the burned-out bulb, and replace it with a new super-high-wattage model of his own design. Meanwhile, Willie has driven up to the door in a laundry truck. Just before Rollin's real identity is revealed, we escape to the laundry truck, drive to the airfield, and return to the United States.