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October 25, 2007

Thursday

....and that's how the zebra got its stripes.

Update a fable.

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Dave: Stripes

"But is it not true," asked Mason, his voice suddenly turning into an inexorable drill of justice, "that your uncle confided in you where those deeds were.  That you then picked up the dagger, State's Exhibit Number 5, in your hooves, and thrust it into his back?  Did you not, in fact, kill your uncle, so that you could steal the deeds, lay claim to the mineral rights, and pay off the debts you owed to mobsters in Las Vegas?"

"Yes!  Yes!"  Mrs. Zebra broke down sobbing.  The next photo of her in the society magazines would be in prison garb ...

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Ted: What the Crow Told the Coward

"...so after she put enough pebbles down, the water level rose and she could drink."

"Yayyyyyyy!"

"Aesop!, Come here!"

"Ye-ye-yessir?"

"I have told you to knock this off on company time. Until V, your ass is mine. Now get back to work!"

"Yessir!"

"Is the bastard gone?" "Good."

"This story, dear reader, is about a man who wanted to make stories. But his boss, and the traffic, and the crabgrass just kept eating away his time.

Then one day, the man realized he was going blind, and those things didn't mean anything anymore.

That, is when he became a storyteller."

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