I know you guys enjoy a shaggy dog story so ...
Once upon a time, in the continent of Africa ruled the great chief
Zambaba. He had 3 dozen sons, and as they grew older they became very
hard to keep amused.
Desperate to find something for his sons to do, Zambaba called for the
great wise man, Ztahara. For 80 days and nights Zambaba waited in his hut
for the wise man. When Ztahara did show up, Zambaba muttered something to
the effect of "Go around the world or something?" With his frustration
vented, he beseeched the great Ztahara to suggest something for his 3
dozen very bored princes to do.
Ztahara looked up at the sky, and uttered some mumbo jumbo. He danced
around for another week, consulted bones and such. Finally, at his wit's
end, Zambaba slipped the old guy fifty quid, and the two got down to
business.
"You must send your sons on a quest. Each must bring back 1 exotic gift.
The most exotic gift you receive will be given be the most worthy prince
to be king."
So with this said, Zambaba sent his sons out into the world. After many
weeks, his youngest son returned with a very exotic gift: a stone throne.
The chief, who had to stand around all of the time, was very pleased at
the gift. There was celebration and dancing.
A week later, his second youngest son returned with another exotic gift:A
straw throne. The king preferred it to the stone throne because it was
soft and was a bit warmer. To keep the servants off of the old chair, he
had the stone throne put into the attic. There was much dancing and
rejoicing.
A week later, the chief's third youngest son returned with: a wooden
throne. (Which was nice because the straw throne was getting to look a
bit shabby). There even more dancing and rejoicing and, yet again, the
older throne was put into the attic.
Well, for the next year and a half, the chief received more and more
thrones from his sons. Gold thrones, platinum thrones, ivory thrones,
thrones made out of herring, fur covered thrones and even ergonomically
correct thrones.
Each new throne was more luxurious and more comfortable
than the last. Since the king was touched by the receipt of each gift, he
did not have the heart to throw them away, neither could he bear to let
servants sit on them. Thus each throne, in turn, was stuffed into the
attic.
At last the eldest son arrived with the most magnificent throne of all.
It had everything, a leather interior, dolby surround sound, a fridge
underneath, a beer holder, full body massager and (or course) one of those
annoying upholstery arm thingies that hold the remote control. Since the
last throne was the wrong colour, it was thrown into the attic and this
last throne was declared a winner.
There was a loud drunken party that night to celebrate. All of the noise,
and the inebriated people stepping through the walls weakened the already
overloaded structure of the hut, causing it to collapse on top of the
king and all of his princes.
Moral of the story:
A terrible play on words
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
He who lives in grass house should not stow thrones.
