The Cure For Cancer

Contractor knocks on my door.

Me: Can I help you?

Contractor: We're going around inspecting houses for toxic mold.

Me: It's okay, I have a cure.

Contractor: You have a what?

Me: It's pretty obvious that you just find something that rhymes to cure the problem.

Contractor: What are you, like, 12?

Me: Well, I'm not the one dying from toxic mold.

Contractor: So the cure for toxic mold is...

Me: Cuervo Gold!!!

Two hours later...

Drunken Contractor: Now cure mesothelioma.