Friday, February 27, 2009

txt stff: finale n pur txt

(A lovely tale of a lovely person.)


There was an old man in the mountains who had no hair. This was a great vexation to him. He asked, again and again: “Why? Why do I have no hair?”

He thought and thought. Then he had an idea. If he could just skin a duck, burn its skin, and inhale the smoke, his hair would regrow! This seemed reasonable.

So he went to find a duck. He looked in the mountains, but no ducks were there. They weren't in the mountains, or the meadows, or the deserts!

Finally, the old man found a group of animals near a pond. They looked like ducks, walked like ducks, and smelled like ducks. Maybe they were ducks!

The old man caught one. (He was very fast for an old man.) He skinned it and burned the skin. Then he inhaled deeply. “Ahh,” he said. It smelled like chicken!

But his hair did not grow back. Oh no! He had not killed a duck! He had killed a duck impersonator! The old man was sad. He was a murderer! (Also, a cannibal.)

The old man was jailed at once. (The police were very efficient there.) For the rest of his days, he cursed his undoing: the vilest of practices, duck typing!

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