120 lines
6.3 KiB
Plaintext
120 lines
6.3 KiB
Plaintext
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OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO oOOOO OOOO. OOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
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OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" .OOOOOO OOOOOo OOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
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OOOO oOOOOOOO OOOOOOO. OOOO oOOOO
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OOOO .OOOO OOOO OOOOOOOOo OOOO OOOO"
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OOOO oOOOO OOOO OOOO "OOOO. OOOO OOOOo .OOOO'
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OOOO .OOOO" OOOO OOOO OOOOoOOOO "OOOO. oOOOO
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OOOO oOOOOOOO..OOOO OOOO "OOOOOOO OOOOoOOOO"
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OOOO .OOOO"""OOOOOOOO OOOO OOOOOO "OOOOOOO'
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OOOO oOOOO ""OOOO OOOO "OOOO OOOOOO
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|-----------------------------------------------------------------------------|
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| There Ain't No Justice |
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| #45 |
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|-----------------------------------------------------------------------------|
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- The Bedtime Story -
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A Fable
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by Kel'anth
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Once upon a time, in a faraway land, there was a farm. On this farm
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lived Dog and Cat. They lived a pastoral life, Dog feeding the cattle,
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sowing, plowing, reaping, and all that, and Cat catching mice, selling the
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produce, and doing the taxes.
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Every night, after their long day's work, Cat and Dog would go to bed
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in their rooms in the farmhouse. Cat would always tell Dog a bedtime story
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to help him forget his aching muscles and get to sleep, so he wouldn't
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collapse the next day.
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One night, as usual, Dog was lying in bed. He called, "Cat, please
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come tell me a story!"
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Cat finished his bath and eventually arrived. He then begin his story.
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"Once upon a time, in a faraway land, there was a village. And the village
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was in a beautiful green wooded valley, and in the woods lived lots and
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lots of nice fuzzy animals: deer, birds, wolves, bears, boars, squirrels,
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raccoons, chipmunks, and snakes." Dog started to protest, but cat quickly
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said, "Fuzzy and SCALY animals, that is."
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"In the village there lived, among others, a banker named Benny
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Witherspoon. Benny had a hunting rifle and a knife collection, and he used
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to go out and hunt boars. Everyone thought this was very nice and good,
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except for the boars, who were a bit miffed."
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"One day Benny got himself a submachine gun, and he went into the
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woods and shot at least ten boars full of bullets, turning the green leaves
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to miniature Italian flags with spatters of red blood and white brain
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tissue. The boars were just plain fed up with this, so finally one snuck up
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behind him and gored him to death, and ran off from his eviscerated
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twitching body trailing a streamer of blood-soaked bowel from his left
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tusk."
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"The villagers discovered this, and, being all good villagers, even
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though most of them thought Benny was a thief and a louse, they went out to
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make retribution on the boars. They all took submachine guns with them and
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wiped out all the boars and their wives and children, and many innocent
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wild creatures who happened to be mistaken for boars or caught in the
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crossfire."
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"All the woodland creatures were greatly saddened by this, but they
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soon found they didn't miss the boars all that much after all. They went
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back to their peaceful, idyllic lives as creatures of the natural
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wilderness."
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"But then came the Plague. The village was completely destroyed by the
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ferocious assault of disease that spread quicker than people could be
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quarantined. The last man in the village, running sores all over his body,
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oozing putrid purple pus in unbelievable quantities, was in great pain. To
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end it all, he immolated himself and ran through the woods until he died,
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setting them ablaze."
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"The flames spread up and down the valley, engulfing every last tree
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in billowing flames. The animals were all burned alive, but for one young
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deer. This fellow wandered about the blasted landscape, looking for
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anything to comfort him for the loss of his home and family."
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"All he found were trees turned to ash, blackened skeletons, seared
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flesh, embers, and rock and soil suffused with ashes. Ashes everywhere.
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Nothing but ashes. No one to talk to, nothing to do. The valley was
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surrounded by barren land as far as the horizon. There was nothing left for
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the deer. He was lonely and he knew he must soon die of starvation."
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"So the deer climbed up to the rim of the valley. He stood looking
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over a cliff at the black scar that was once his home, and a tear slid down
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his cheek. Then, with a running start, he hurled himself over the edge. His
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life flashed before his eyes as he spun, flailing, through the air. The
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ground came up to meet him in a final embrace. 'SPLAT!' went the deer, and
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his blood and his brains and his entrails were spread across the rocks at
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the base of the cliff in a thick, slick stain. The crimson mark he left was
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the only color to be seen for miles around. The End."
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"Gee," said Dog, "that was a sad story."
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"Yes," said Cat, "it was sad."
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Dog looked uncomfortable. "Isn't there, like, kind of...well, you
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know, doesn't it have, ummm...a moral?"
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Cat stared at him incredulously. "Moral? Pshaw!" Cat turned around and
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walked away, shaking the dust from his left foot as he passed through the
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door to indicate his disdain.
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Dog had some trouble getting to sleep that night. The next morning, he
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collapsed from exhaustion in the early afternoon and cost them a good day's
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work.
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The moral of this story is: Not every story has a moral, or even a point.
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Some are more realistic.
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[>> Phoenix Modernz Inc. :908/830-TANJ <<]
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[>> Modern Textfiles Inc. The Matrix BBS:908/905-6691 <<]
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[>> The Lawless Society Inc. CyberChat BBS:908/506-7637 <<]
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[>> -also- <<]
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[>> Terrapin Biscuit Circuit:908/506-6651 <<]
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[>> First Universal Church Kalisti: 602/753-3784 <<]
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