Help me translate this ancient prose.

Sun told a story: In Zhucheng, Shandong Province, a man was killed by bandits and fell on his chest. After the bandits left, the family found the body and buried it. Suddenly I heard him breathing. I took a closer look and found that my throat was only one finger thick. The family immediately straightened up and went home. After a day and a night, I groaned. I pried my teeth open with chopsticks and poured some food. Six months later, I'm all right. After chatting with several people for more than ten years, someone told a joke and everyone laughed. The man smiled, too. Just as he was laughing his head off, the original knife edge cracked, his head fell off and blood flowed down. When everyone saw it, it was already dead. The man's father sued the joke teller to the government, and everyone pooled some money to the father of the deceased and buried the deceased. This lawsuit is over.

Yi Shi said: I laughed my head off. This is really the biggest joke. The neck is only connected to one point, and it will take ten years to die. Didn't these joking neighbors owe him in their last lives?