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From: bs904@FreeNet.Carleton.CA (Andrew Nellis)
Newsgroups: news.admin.net-abuse.misc,news.admin.net-abuse.usenet,alt.humor.net-abuse
Subject: STORY: _A Fairy Tale (or: Still Waiting for Godot)_
Date: 1 Aug 1997 03:51:29 GMT
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                                A Fairy Tale
    ***                  (or: Still Waiting for Godot)
  **   **                copyright Andrew Nellis, 1997
  **   **
  **   ** nce upon a time there was was a City.  It was a great, majestic
    ***   City, with many wondrous castles and towers, with a fountain in
          every square, and wide, cobbled streets for the people to use
as they went about their business.  But this was a City beset by a terrible
curse.

Outside the walls of the city were evil creatures called Whammers.  They
were called Whammers because they threw stones over the walls of the City
at the people inside, and the stones made a sound like 'wham!' when they 
hit.  At first there were not very many Whammers, and people were able to
ignore the stones.  But as time went by, more and more Whammers gathered,
and the stones flew faster and thicker, until so many stones fell that
they could no longer be avoided or ignored.

"Something must be done!" the people cried, as they ran through the streets
with their hands over their heads and stones rained down upon them.  Many
were struck upon their heads and fell in the street, and walked no more.

"Let us speak to the Un-Whammers," said the people, and they climbed the
tower stairs to the parapets atop the walls where the Un-Whammers were.  
The Un-Whammers were fierce warriors, and had names such as The Ferret, 
and The Brave Ones, and The Slayer of the Streets, and The Knight of 
Howard, and The Spoon, and The Jewel, and The Falcon.

The Un-Whammers carried great bows in their hands with which they shot 
arrows at the stones the Whammers threw.  Sometimes they would shoot arrows
at the masses of Whammers below them, and a Whammer would fall, transfixed,
but always there was a Whammer to replace the fallen one.

"Why do you permit stones to fall upon our heads?" asked the people to the
Un-Whammers.

And the Un-Whammers turned to the people, and even as they spoke their bows
sang and arrows flew swift and true.  "We loose our arrows day and night
upon the Whammers and their stones," said the Un-Whammers.  "The Whammers
were few once, and our arrows were swift.  Now, though death flies from
our bows in a mighty stream, we cannot shoot all of the stones.  They are 
too many for us."

The people despaired and many threw themselves from the walls and were
devoured by the Whammers.  "What are we to do?" wailed the people to the
Un-Whammers.  "Our homes are rubble and none are safe.  Even the children
are struck upon their heads as they suckle at their mother's breast!"

"You must seek wisdom elsewhere," said the Un-Whammers, turning back to
their task.  "But you must hurry, for our arms grow weary, and surely if
we falter shall the City be razed by stones."

And so the people came down from the walls and went to the Great Tower of
Ivory.  Higher and higher rose the stairs within the tower, until the people
thought they must surely be above the very clouds.  At the top of the tower
lived Father Russ, Archbishop of the Berries, and he was known to all as a
Good and Wise Man.

"Help us!" cried the people to Father Russ.  "The stones fall upon our 
heads and none can stop them.  What wisdom have you to save us from the 
curse which shall surely destroy us all?"

And Father Russ blessed the people and said unto them, "We live in a vale
of sorrows, and it is the nature of this City to have stones fall upon us.
You must have faith that when this City is at last destroyed, a new, 
greater City shall rise, shining, in its place, and it shall be be immune 
to the falling of stones, and all shall be happy and all shall be well."

But even as Father Russ spoke, the stones rattled upon the walls of the
Great Tower of Ivory, and the screams of those upon whom the stones had
fallen could be heard from the streets below.

"You speak of a better place," said the people to Father Russ.  "But what
of those upon whom the stones fall now?  What of those left homeless and
stone-battered upon the streets?"

And Father Russ gave a great wail, for he was a Good Man.  "I can offer
only faith in a better place beyond.  You must seek elsewhere for the 
answer you seek," said Father Russ, and such was his sorrow that he tore 
his clothes and threw dust upon himself and wore ashes in his beard.

So the people left the Great Tower of Ivory with heavy hearts, and the
rain of stones became ever greater.  Many fell under the stones, never to
rise again.  

"We must go to Scurvy Tim the Buccaneer," said the people, "for he is 
mighty, and even the Whammers fear to linger within his dungeon."

With much trembling the people crept to the wharf, where Scurvy Tim the
Buccaneer sat atop a coil of rope, sinister with his eyepatch and hooked
hand.  Upon his shoulder lounged a fat, grey cat of uncertain pedigree 
and even less certain temper.

"Help us, Scurvy Tim!" cried the people.  "Stones fall upon us, and our
homes fall to ruin.  You are mighty and fearsome, and our City shall
surely be destroyed if you cannot save us."

"Shiver me timbers," said Scurvy Tim, squinting at the people.  "Ye can
see that ye've built yer homes o' wood and thatch and brick.  Ye've not
the chance a minnow has before the shark o' keepin' the stones out wi'
that.  Ye've got t'build a fortress o' stone and mortar.  Arrrh, be that 
not so, Fluffy?"

The fat grey cat stretched languidly and began speaking, to the amazement
of all the people.  "You were expecting a Parrot, perhaps?"

Fluffy eyed the people closely and, finding no disrespect, sheathed his
claws.  "In the rubble of this City shall Scurvy Tim and I build a Castle, 
and it shall be a Fortress of Impregnable Stone, and all shall be Welcome 
within.  There shall be Laws and Rules and with great Force shall we repel 
Invaders.  Un-Whammers shall man the Towers, and Woe, Woe, Woe, betide 
those who seek to hurl Stones."

"And what of our homes?" asked the people.

"Arrrh," began Scurvy Tim, "they be left t'fall t'rubble at the hand o'
the landlubbin' Whammers, and what need ye wi' yer homes when ye've our
fortress t'live in?"

Many shook their heads and left in search of other wisdom, for they would
not leave the work of ages and the homes of their ancestors to fall to the
hand of the Whammers.  But some few, with houses of straw long since fallen 
to the Whammers, lingered with their meagre possessions and said unto 
Scurvy Tim the Buccaneer, "We shall go to your fortress, and we shall leave 
all behind.  Take us, Scurvy Tim, we beg of you.  When shall this redoubt 
be completed, the final stone laid?"

And Scurvy Tim looked to Fluffy, and Fluffy looked to Scurvy Tim, and both
spoke words of ancient prophesy: "Real Soon Now."

While those who waited with Scurvy Tim the Buccaneer hunkered down on the
docks amidst the falling stones, the rest of the people came across a
strange procession in the streets.  A band of fools, with bells upon their
shoes and hats, capered madly, shouting and frolicking, gesturing rudely to
the Un-Whammers upon the walls who, backs turned, ignored the antics.

"Joy to the City!" shouted one of the fools to the people.  He was dirty
and ugly, and a single band of hair like unruly thorn bushes grew in tufts 
of wild profusion upon his brow.  His name was the Grub, for he was bloated
and slimy and white, and he was the King of the Idiots.

"What joy is there when rocks fall upon our heads?" asked the people,
amazed at such foolishness.

"Why, it is the greatest of pleasures to be struck upon one's pate," said
the Grub, smiling benevolently as stones made hollow thumping noises upon
his head.

"Furthermore," continued an armless fool, whose great saucer-sized eyes
rolled like marbles in all directions, "are not homes and great monuments
and soaring cathedrals made of stones also?  You must accept stones upon
your head if you wish to have homes and monuments and cathedrals."

"But it is not cathedrals falling upon our heads!" cried the people.

"Who is to say what is a cathedral?" asked the armless fool.  "Mayhap it
is a stone which strikes you upon your head."

And the people grew wrathful at the fools for their foolishness, and threw
many cathedrals at them until the fools went away.

"We must go to Evil Ronald of the Infinite Monkeys," said the people, with
great fear in their hearts, for Evil Ronald was a Necromancer and terrible
in his wrath.

The people went to Evil Ronald within his dark tower and were amazed, for 
never had they seen so many monkeys.  They sat upon every chair, and swung 
from every lamp, and chattered noisily as they pounded upon their 
typewriters.

"I know why you have come," said Evil Ronald, resplendant in his black
robes and pointy hat.  "If you wish to defeat the Whammers, you must
build catapults and ballistae and trebuchets to rain still larger stones
yet upon their heads, and you must make war upon them with fire and 
lightning and floods.  You must poison all waters from which they might 
drink, and you must burn all that they might fatten themselves upon."

The people were aghast, and drew back in alarm.  "But Evil Ronald," they
protested, "would not that also bring ruination and destruction upon the 
City as well as the Whammers?"

"What care you?" sneered Evil Ronald.  "Your City is surely doomed.  You
must take what vengeance you can and perish in the getting."

But the people fled in horror from the dark tower -- those who were not
devoured by monkeys.

Long and long did the people search for wisdom, and many were those who
claimed to possess the answer.

"Rules," said Joshua the Merciless, "that is how you must defeat the 
Whammers.  All must obey rules, and there must be order, and any who 
transgress shall have fire put to them.  Any homes which shelter those
who disobey the rules must be pulled down and destroyed."

"And how shall that defeat the Whammers?" asked the people.  

But Joshua the Merciless would not answer, and ranted all the louder,
threatening all manner of harm upon those who fit not his order.  The
people went away, shaking their heads.

"We must build a great machine," said Richardo da Pew, an inventor whose
clockworks were the amazement of all who saw them. "It shall be in the 
shape of a great arm, and it shall fling many scores of arrows which will
shoot the stones from the skies, and the falling stones and arrows shall
crush the Whammers."

"But how shall the machine know the difference between the men of the City
and the Whammers?" asked the people.

Richardo da Pew shrugged.  "It won't."

And the people sighed and went forth once more in search of wisdom.

"You must laugh at them," said the famous chirurgeon, Dynasus of Orr.  

Dynasus and his gaily dressed band of jesters stood upon the walls of the
City and rained insults upon the Whammers, taunting them unmercifully,
until the Whammers howled with rage and flung stones with greater fury
than ever.

"And how shall this help us?" asked the people, as they ran hither and
yon, trying to avoid the hailstorm of stones which the laughter of the
jesters had provoked.

"Help?" asked Dynasus, scratching his head.  "What matters that, so long as
it's funny?"

And once again the people sighed and sallied forth.

"We shall never find a saviour at this rate," lamented the people, as they
sheltered from the constant rain of stones beneath a tree.  "If the saviour
will not come, then we must wait in this spot for our Godot."

And there they stand, to this very day, as the stones clatter around them,
and every day they tell themselves that surely this is the day that Godot
shall come.

There they stand.  And where is Godot?


--
 +-Andrew Nellis-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-+ ...........................................
 | bs904@freenet.carleton.ca   | .  So much more profitable and gratious   .
 | NCF Net Abuse Response Team | .  is doctrine by ensample, then by rule  .
 +-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-+ ........ Edmund Spencer, [Faerie Queene] ..