Post by Editor in Chief on Apr 21, 2008 0:26:26 GMT
We sent crack reporter Fewms into the field, literally, to bring back a report on the state of the Kingdom's agriculture. Unfortunately, the mental backslide that has been apparent in Fewms over the last few weeks seems to be continuing. In short, he ended up interviewing a fig hanging from a tree east of the City, rather than our industrious farmers. We have run the story anyway, on account of needing to fill the space.
Fewms: Salaam, O Succulent One!
Fig: Heya.
Fewms: Let me begin by saying that it's an honor to be speaking with one of the nicest fruits in the land!
Fig: Right back atcha.
Fewms: Well thank you, I...hey, wait a minute...
Fig: Yer shoe's untied.
Fewms: What?
Fig: Yer shoe. It's untied, pal.
Fewms shakes his finger sternly at the fig.
Fewms: Now you listen here. That old joke may still play well with you figs, but we humans don't fall for it any more. Besides, I'm wearing boots.
Fig: Suit yerself.
Fig ripens slightly.
Fewms: Let's continue, shall we? Now...how long have you been a fig?
Fig: Bite me.
Fewms reddens.
Fewms: Excuse me?
Fig: Go on, ya know you want to.
Fewms: Bite you?
Fig: Aye.
Fewms: Well, I won't say no.
Fewms plucks the fig, pops it in his mouth, and begins to chew happily.
Fig: AIYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
Fewms spits the macerated fig out onto the ground.
Fewms: Ye gods, what have I done? WHAT HAVE I DONE?
Fewms runs sobbing from the scene as the rest of the figs start to wail piteously.
Fewms: Salaam, O Succulent One!
Fig: Heya.
Fewms: Let me begin by saying that it's an honor to be speaking with one of the nicest fruits in the land!
Fig: Right back atcha.
Fewms: Well thank you, I...hey, wait a minute...
Fig: Yer shoe's untied.
Fewms: What?
Fig: Yer shoe. It's untied, pal.
Fewms shakes his finger sternly at the fig.
Fewms: Now you listen here. That old joke may still play well with you figs, but we humans don't fall for it any more. Besides, I'm wearing boots.
Fig: Suit yerself.
Fig ripens slightly.
Fewms: Let's continue, shall we? Now...how long have you been a fig?
Fig: Bite me.
Fewms reddens.
Fewms: Excuse me?
Fig: Go on, ya know you want to.
Fewms: Bite you?
Fig: Aye.
Fewms: Well, I won't say no.
Fewms plucks the fig, pops it in his mouth, and begins to chew happily.
Fig: AIYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
Fewms spits the macerated fig out onto the ground.
Fewms: Ye gods, what have I done? WHAT HAVE I DONE?
Fewms runs sobbing from the scene as the rest of the figs start to wail piteously.