|
There once was a farmer named Jack. Jack was a cotton farmer, who farmed cotton on a farm. This farmer, whose name was Jack, worked on a farm as he harvested cotton from the farm fields. And et cetra. Jack lived in a setting in about AD 1400, so he didn't have farming equipment. Every day, he had to rip the cotton from the malevolent, thorny cotton plants, and every day the land would be blessed and nurtured with blood from Jack's wounds. The cotton would always be too thick for selling, since it was all stuck together with coagulated blood. Jack would have to spend extra hours washing his cotton in the contaminated, waste-filled waters of the Swine River. He would wince at every touch anything made on his wounds. One year, it didn't rain quite as much as it should. Jack would have to wade into the shallow waters of the Swine river, the waste seeping into his blood through his lacerations, and fill his buckets with the slime. Then he would walk the four miles back to his fields and dump the slime on them. He had to do this fifty times per day to satisfy his small, sickly batch of cotton plants. One day on this year, Jack's favorite band, Murder Darkness Dying, came to town. The concert times were during the part of the day when Jack had to haul water. It took Jack the money he had saved up for twenty years to buy a ticket, but he did anyway. At the concert, Jack got his arms accidentally pinned to the walls by swords from sword-waving Murder Darkness Dying fans. Then a fire started on stage and Jack got trampled with everyone running to the fire exits. Jack went back home to check on his cotton, and while he was walking through the fields, having his legs flayed off by thorns, he discovered that the soil was too dry. He discovered this when the soil was crumbling beneath his feet, after which fell into a cavern and got impaled on a stalactite. As it turns out, under Jack's fields this whole time was a priceless, well-preserved cave filled with cave paintings, swords and gold coins. The people who pinned Jack's arms to the wall bought the territory and sold everything in it for approximately 200,000,000 pounds. Moral: Sucks to be him. |
||