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03-04-2010, 04:39 PM
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Flame of the Ainulindalë
Join Date: Jan 2006
Location: Wearing rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves in a field behaving as the wind behaves
Posts: 9,308
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The Doctor: Now Mr. Nogrod, I have the good news and I have the bad news. Which one would you like to take first?
Nog: Beautiful Soup, so rich and green, Waiting in a hot tureen! Who for such dainties would not stoop? Doc: Don't try that on me. It won't work. Here's the good news: you'll soon be blissfully ignorant of what goes on. How's that? Nog: Soup of the evening, beautiful Soup! Soup of the evening, beautiful Soup! Beau--ootiful Soo--oop! Beau--ootiful Soo--oop! Doc: Nuu-urse! The straightjacket, please! *a mild struggle ensues* Nog: Soo--oop of the e--e--evening! Doc: Okay that's it. *hits Nog with a hammer so that blood spills all around* Doc: The bad news then... You suffer, beside your overt madness, from a rare syndrom called Europeanismus narcolepticus. It means you will fall in a deep sleep quite so soon... *starts staring Nog in the eye and swinging a pendulum in front of his eyes* Nog (resignedly): Beautiful, beautiful soup... *hits Nog to a head with a hammer, more blood around* Nog (hardly audible): Beautiful soup! Who cares for fish, Game, or any other dish... Doc: Nuu-urse! Nuu-urse! Get this weirdo to room 9, will you?
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Upon the hearth the fire is red Beneath the roof there is a bed; But not yet weary are our feet... |
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