a blodg

once upon a time, one of the king’s courtiers came to him with a severely non-existent problem.
‘my twinkies have gone rusty!’ he exclaimed in desperation.
the king immediately summoned from distant lands the most skilled diviners of the absurd.

they held court for 3 days, and the profundity of their discourse utterly failed to reach the depths of a puddle.
contributions ranged from the single word ‘frog’ (proposed independently 37 times), to a lengthy thesis on morality in philosophy. around the seventeenth hour of the aforementioned lecture, one of the more extravagantly attired diviners ran across the court towards the speaker and biffed him smartly in the mouth, saving him the trouble of ever brushing several teeth. there was a smattering of applause, but not as much as one might expect, because most of them hadn’t been paying attention anyway.

at the end of the three days, the king sent them all away with sandwiches for the journey home. the next time he saw the courtier, he grabbed him by the collar and said, ‘DON’T LET IT HAPPEN AGAIN!’. duly chastened, the courtier returned to salting the fishponds, and the king retired to his bedroom to play the guitar. the following day, he had a bath.

the end.