ANOTHER HAIRY DOG STORY (I remembered only the premise and punch line on this one so I re-wrote; adding a little detail. It’s a little long but that helps to give it the distinction of being a “Hairy Dog Story”). THE FABLE OF THE FOO BIRD. . . Somewhere in the deep jungles of Brazil near the source of the mighty Amazon river, where it runs wide deep and slow, there lies a tiny island that came to be named "Foolandee". This island is the only known source of a plant that has no known use and is looked upon with malevolence, abhorrence and disgust by all man and animal, except one. The name of this plant was originally derived from the sound made by all who would taste one of its berries, when they spit it out, "Fit-too-ee". (Since shortened to the more easily pronounced "Foo-ee" plant) Not only does the fruit of this plant have a vile taste, it is also disgusting to look upon with its leaves a combination of chartreuse and burnt orange color and it’s fruit striped purple and chartreuse. This plant was so hated that the natives would burn it whenever it was found and eventually it retreated to the tiny island of Foolandee which was also the home of the only known animal that didn’t view it in disgust, a vile looking bird that came to be named the “Foo bird”. The Foo bird had a deviant attitude and because it was hated by everyone it too hated every one and would attack any man or animal that ventured anywhere close to its home. During the day, as a source of amusement the Foo birds would "dive bomb" animals swimming in the vicinity of their island, the "bomb" being their excreta and their aim was unerring. The interesting thing about this is that the Foo bird excreta, when mixed with water would change into a very powerful acid and the swimming animal would go up in smoke, literally. At the National Museum in Reo De Janeiro there is on display the only known example of a Foo Bird egg. Because the Foo bird is so protective of its home island it would be impossible to get another example, (this one was found floating in the river and retrieved out of eyesight of the Foo Bird) but never the less the museum had put up a reward of ten million dollars for anyone that would bring in another example. Three con artists looking for an easy buck decided that they were smarter than a mere bird and that with a little preparation; they could get another egg and collect the reward. They knew that the bird’s only weapon was its excreta but they also knew that as long as it was not mixed with water, it was harmless. They could handle that. After all they had spent their entire life on the sea shore dodging (and being hit) with the droppings of sea gulls. They decided to go to the island early in the morning, before the birds were awake and to erect a canapé over the boat as protection, then all there was left to do was for one of them to make a dash from the boat to a birds nest, grab an egg and get back to the boat. Should be no problem. On the morning of the assault they noiselessly rowed their boat to the shore of the island just as dawn was breaking and very quietly one of them sneaked up to a low built nest, grabbed an egg and hurried back toward the boat. Just before he arrived however one lone Foo bird made a dive at him and hit him squarely in the middle of his back with a big blob of excreta. He dropped the egg and tried to take off his shirt because the smell and feel was the most terrible thing he had ever experienced. It was like glue and as he tried to take off his shirt it got on his hands and then his arms and he went totally crazy, ran to the river’s edge and attempted to wash this vile stuff off but he had forgotten that when mixed with water it became something else and just like that he disappeared in a poof of smoke. Well, the two remaining con men were shocked but undaunted as they knew that even if they did get hit all they had to do was stay away from water and they would be fine. The second ran the short distance to where the dropped egg lay, grabbed it and started for the boat. But alas, the same thing happened to him with just one bird with amazing accuracy making a direct hit. He too couldn’t stand it and ended up in the river and he too died in a puff of smoke. The third con man, now alone, could almost reach the dropped egg from where he sat in the boat and sure that he could retrieve it and get back to the boat before being hit from above reached out quickly for the egg. But the bird was one step ahead of him and deftly ricocheted a monstrous sized blob of excreta off a nearby boulder that hit him squarely in the chest and face. He instantly went completely insane and dove into the river where he became a swirl of bubbles and smoke. The moral of this little story is- - - - -IF A FOO SH*TS, WEAR IT! ! !
Posted on: Sat, 21 Sep 2013 21:08:22 +0000
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