This thread is funny.
It used to be, once upon a time, long long ago in a magical kingdom filled with good morals, strong values and accountability, people who worked hard, strived to be the best they could and worked hard were respected. But one day a young man visited the land. He wore a colorful tee shirt with funny words and animal pictures on it. Behind him followed a dark, murky cloud. It blotted out the sun. A dark evil enveloped the countryside.
Soon, crops started dying, schools were emptied, families... were in shambles. The townfolk... grew restless. They rounded up all the hard workers and brought them to the town square. There they erected a brilliant effigy made of straw, stick and wood, and in the center of it was a cage that they stuffed all those unfortunate folks into. When the bamboo was tied shut, their arms bound to the sides, their fate was sealed. At the base of the structure was a large pile of straw.
A little girl's name was called. She ran through the crowd wearing a flowing blue dress and carried a bright, blazing torch. As she stopped at the foot of the structure she looked up at all the howling people inside. Tears streaked down the faces of some while others were defiant.
The girl frowned, "You made me do this. My daddy says you all are meanies. He said you are tryhards. He said you aren't fair. He said if I light this fire the good times will return." The girl paused and swayed back and forth. Licks of flame whipped by her swinging hair. Her hips soon stopped and she looked up at the bound people again, "Die meanies!" She screamed.
And with that, she brought the torch down to the straw and it erupted in a hellish blaze. It wicked up the sides and as it did the folks inside screamed and pleaded. Yet there was one man within who said nothing. He stood bound to the front gate and scowled at the crowd. His face was covered in sweat as the flames drew closer.
Drums started beating, townfolk joined one another, hand in hand and formed several concentric circles around the pyre. They started singing, one by one and then in unison. Each circle rotated opposite of the one they surrounded. They sung songs of happiness, of joy and despite all the pleas of pain and sorrow, they did not relent.
Just as the fire reached the bottom of the cage floor, the silent staring man spoke. "When we are dead may you all starve for without us, without our hard work, you will know nothing and be no better than a pack of heathens! May a curse descend upon you forever more!"
He never said another word, for moments later his pants were afire and as the blaze wrapped around him he continued to stare.
It took three days for the fire to stop. A week later smoke still billowed out of the ashen pile. Nobody ever buried a one of them. None of their roasted bones were ever shown proper respect. A month later they began to throw their trash upon it. A year later it was covered in refuse. But the man's words were right... the town was never the same after that.
Poverty and famine gripped the community hard. Babies were born with deformities, cats started eating dogs and worst of all, even the town's mayor lost his blubbery belly as his skin drew taught against his bones. All the crops failed and a year later, almost everyone was dead. They had all starved and had little to show for their paganistic ritual. One boy lived and managed to carry on. He traveled to one town over and told them of his story. He told them... of that staring man.
From that day on it was known to all--to respect those who work hard and strive for quality and success in the name of others. And that community prospered along with everyone else who visited it. Life there... was good.
The End.
Edited by Mister Blastman, 01 March 2016 - 12:26 PM.
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Bishop Steiner, on 29 February 2016 - 01:21 PM, said:
