No greater love hath a man that he lay down his wife for a friend. Go thou and do likewise. Then it came to pass that they crossed the Ozarks to reach the land of milk and money, and there he purchased a hamburger, of which his goodly wife would have to understand, for the tavern-master would not otherwise allow him to watch the game, and there saw he the very Saints themselves beaten into the ground by Giants, so severe were these Giants that they full sore oppressed each challenger with mighty dispatch and were destined to reach the bowl after which they quested.
This be no benefit to Sir Traveler who was of the throwback cloth and, unlike others of his order, had a true faith in the intercession of saints. For relief he and one of his kind were beguiled by blasphemous parchments that could only be acquired on the Internet, at a cost of 100 per diem.
They too quested after the bowl and took faith that even Jesu knew not the day or the hour. And they tacked messages upon the doors of the church to give comfort to them who were also given to the faith of saints. “Be it next year,” saith they.
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1 comment:
still a classic. Love it.
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