Emperor Chicken

Hundreds of years ago, in ancient Rome, a chicken was minding her own business, pecking away at the dust and making the occasional cluck-cluck-cluck noise.

Our lowly chicken didn't know it, but she was only a few streets away from the very heart of Rome, the Emperor's palace, the seat of all power.

One day, our chicken heard a strange noise coming from down the road, and being an inquisitive sort of chicken, she decided to investigate.

She walked down the road, around a corner, under an arch, across a courtyard, into a building, through a doorway, and finally ended up in a room full of people rushing about making something.

She hopped up onto a table to get a better look, and she was amazed when she saw what they were doing. She was in a huge kitchen, and the people were busy preparing a dish made of delicious-looking fresh lettuces.

As soon as she saw it, she let out a squawk of excitement. And that was when all the busy people stopped being busy and turned to look at her.

Before she knew it, she was being carried through wide corridors with intricate patterned floors and lined with ornate statues. At first she was afraid, but eventually they arrived at a grand room with vaulted ceilings and important-looking men in robes. She had been brought for an audience with the Roman Senate itself!

The senators conferred among themselves, until eventually one of them turned and spoke.

"We have agreed that this chicken should be made Emperor of all Rome. With immediate effect!" he proclaimed.

"After all, it's not every day that a Chicken Caeser Salad."


Submitted by: Simon Champion


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The Gloop Maker

There once was a sailor returning to his ship. Just as he approached the edge of the dock, he slipped and fell into the water between ship and dockside. As he hit the water, the ship began to swing toward the harbour wall, and he would have been crushed to death had not a little man, with great presence of mind, thrown a rope and hauled him to safety.

"Whew, thanks!" said the sailor. "You saved my life. Tell me, is there anything I can do for you in return?"

"Well actually," said the man, "there is something. I'd dearly like to work aboard ship and, in fact, I was just on my way to look for a job when I saw you in the water. If you could put in a word for me. I'd be greatly obliged."

"Done!" said the sailor. He took the little man on board and tracked down his immediate superior. "This man saved my life just now, and he really would very much like to have a job on the ship."

"Well, I don't know," said the Petty Officer. "We have a full ship's complement, but I'll certainly put in a word on his behalf to my superior. What does he do?"

"I'm a Gloop Maker," said the little man eagerly.

Not wishing to appear ignorant in front of his subordinate, the Petty Officer didn't like to ask what exactly a Gloop Maker was, so he went to see the Chief Petty Officer.

"This man saved the life of one of my seamen," he told the Chief. "Do you think we could find him a job aboard? He's a Gloop Maker."

Not wishing to appear ignorant in front of his subordinate, the Chief asked the Warrant Officer, who asked the Sub-Lieutenant and so on, all the way through the chain of command until the request reached the Captain. After congratulating the little man, the Captain, not wanting to appear ignorant, named him ship's Gloop Maker and ordered the Supply Officer to provide whatever materials were necessary for work to commence.

The little man asked for a strong block and tackle fitted up on the afterdeck, a small stool, a hammer and chisel, a portable furnace, a lump of iron measuring four metres by four metres, several kilograms of copper and several more of silver.

As the ship sailed, the little man set his stool alongside the huge chunk of iron, lit the furnace and began to melt down the copper and silver. Then, with much hammering and chiselling, he began to add blobs of copper and curlicues of silver to the sides of the lump of iron.

Each day crew members stopped and stared at the wondrously strange thing taking shape at the ship's stern. But not wishing to appear ignorant, nobody asked the Gloop Maker what he actually was making.

"Coming along nicely," said the captain as he made his daily rounds. "Any idea precisely when it will be --ah-- ready?"

"Oh yes," said the man. "At 1400 hrs. on July 15 we shall sail through the centre of the Bermuda Triangle. That's when it'll be ready, and I'd like the crew assembled on deck at that hour, if you please, sir."

And so, the great day dawned, the men assembled and the Gloop Maker put down his hammer and chisel. Proudly he stood back and indicated that the block and tackle should be lowered onto his masterpiece, whose copper and silver curlicues gleamed in the sun. Carefully he directed it to be lifted from the deck and swung round until it hung over the sea at the ship's stern.

"Ready, steady, go!" he cried, and he cut it free. And, as it fell into the deep blue waters of the Atlantic, it went, "GLOOP!"


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Jumping With The Birds

One day, a man decided to learn some new sports. He spent some time finding out what was available for him, but after a few months, he called some of his friends out to watch him trying out some of his ideas.

They all followed him up to the top of a local cliff. Not a big cliff, but still they were puzzled about why he had taken them there.

"Let me show you," he said, and produced from a cage a small yellow bird. He held the bird by the feet, and proceeded to jump off the cliff.

His friends were obviously worried, but he was fine, albeit slightly bruised, and returned to the top of the cliff.

"Well, " he said, after a pause, "I don't think much of this budgie-jumping."

So, then he revealed that he had also brought a chicken with him. His friends were forced to watch an almost identical sequence of events all over again.

Once again, he hit the sand at the bottom of the cliff, trudged back to the top, and said to his by now growing audience, "Hen-gliding doesn't seem to work for me either."

Finally, he tried once more. This time, it was a parrot. Again, he leapt off the cliff holding the unfortunate bird by the feet. This time though, as he jumped, he pulled out a hand gun, and shot the bird as he fell.

The end results were pretty much the same, though, and he arrived at the top of the cliff with yet more bruises.

The crowd waited to hear what he would say this time....

He paused, scratched his head, and opened his mouth.

The crowd hushed....

Finally, he said: "And that's the last time I try parrot-shooting too."


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Just as a surgeon was finishing up an operation and was about to close, the patient awakes, sits up, and demands to know what is going on.

"I'm about to close,' the surgeon says.

The patient grabs the surgeon's hand and says, "I'm not going to let you do that! I'll close my own incision!"

The doctor hands him the thread and says, "Suture self".

Submitted by: Stan Kegel


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Ghost Dog

In a small country pub, all the patrons became quite used to the pub owners little dog being around the bar, so were quite upset when one day the little dog died.

Everyone met to decide how they could remember the little dog. The decision was to cut off his tail and stick it up behind the bar to remind everyone of the little dog's wagging tail.

The little dog went up to heaven and was about to run through the pearly gates when he was stopped by Saint Peter, who questioned the little dog as to where he was going.

The little dog said "I have been a good dog - so I am going into heaven where I belong!".

Saint Peter replied "Heaven is a place of perfection, you can not come into heaven without a tail, where is your tail?"

So the little dog explained the what had happened back on earth, and St Peter told him to go back down to earth and retrieve his tail. The little dog protested that it was now the middle of the night on earth, but St Peter would not change his mind.

So the little dog went back down to earth and scratched on the door of the pub until the bartender who lived upstairs came down and opened the door.

"My goodness, it is the spirit of the little dog. What can I do for you?" said the bartender.

The little dog explained that he wasn't allowed into heaven without his tail, and he needed it back.

The bartender replied "I would really like to help you, but my liquor license doesn't allow me to re-tail spirits after hours!"


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