Asdcattb.552 net.jokes utcsrgv!utzoo!decvax!ucbvax!ucsfcgl!sdcarl!sdcattb!wa125 Tue Mar 16 21:14:37 1982 a fable Here is another little story to dunk your donuts with. I call it FABLE because im not very good with names. -:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-: Fable Toddy had just dipped down into the formalin, forked the pickled sheep brain and brought it out fresh and dripping to rest in a dissection pan when it gave a little inarticulate cry, said three Hail Mary's and proved Fermat's last theorem. Mulling this over, Toddy decided to postpone the dissection. He returned the brain to its jar and put the Jean-Francois Pailliard Chamber Orchestra edition of the Pachelbel Canon on the stereo. On the desk, the typewriter began gratefully to clatter out an annotated adaptation of James Joyce's Ulysses for children. Toddy went into the kitchen for some whisky and sat back with it for the better part of an hour. Then he picked up the phone and dialed the number of Professor Green. "I have established communications with my sheep brain," said Toddy. "Oh?" said Professor Green. "It proved Fermat's last theorem." "Yes?" "Won't you come down and have a look at it?" "I'll be down in an hour," said Professor Green. Toddy put the the reciever down. He went into the kitchen and fixed himself a peanut butter sandwich and a glass of milk. He ate. He went back into his study and watched cartoons. He watched the typewriter. He waited. Twenty minutes later the doorbell rang. When he opened the door the professor's face was grave. "Is the brain still --" "Yes," said Toddy, "Right this way professor." Toddy led the professor into the paper strewn study, where the brain was blithely hammering out U.S. economic forecasts for the year 1983. The report was discouraging. The professor spoke: "Toddy, would you step into the closet for a moment? I'd like a word in private with the brain." "Certainly, professor," replied Toddy as he stepped inside the indicated jacket hangar. "Shall I lock the door and throw away the key?" "Please." The professor's voice became a little strange and tight. "You understand that an active sentient sheep brain such as this simply cannot exist. The situation must be rectified," he said, pulling a .38 magnum from his jacket and sending two slugs ripping into the typewriter, which choked to a stop. "Stop it!" came the voice from the closet. "In the name of science --" continued the professor, sending a volly through the plastic jar, shattering it and reducing it contents to Frito bean dip. "No! No!" came the muffled, horrified, closeted voice. The professor got some Grand Marnier from the kitchen, spilled it over the collected works of the sheep brain, and ignited it. Then he sat back to drink the rest. It had been a long day, but as it must, reason had prevailed. MORAL: none. [in this type of story you can write your own.] -:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:- --steve ms sdcattb!wa125 ----------------------------------------------------------------- gopher://quux.org/ conversion by John Goerzen of http://communication.ucsd.edu/A-News/ This Usenet Oldnews Archive article may be copied and distributed freely, provided: 1. There is no money collected for the text(s) of the articles. 2. The following notice remains appended to each copy: The Usenet Oldnews Archive: Compilation Copyright (C) 1981, 1996 Bruce Jones, Henry Spencer, David Wiseman.