Okay, well it wasn't named after Gopher, exactly, but rather his reaction
to me asking him, a long time ago, if he'd "7made up" with Saf.  *wink*

Enjoy, all!  ^_^

-----

    It was long ago that I heard the tale of the island of Gigglesnort,
and its king.  King Bubba Potbelly.  King Bubba was a kind dictator, the
kind who would smile at you while cutting off your tongue for dinner, and
not think twice about it.
    One day, he addressed his subjects.  All of the ninety nine inhabitants
of the island, and the local dog, gathered in the clearing beside the sea.

    "I have thought many long minutes about being king these four years,
and I have decided that it is time for me to have a throne," he said.  His
low voice echoed throughout the clearing, like a hearty belch after a good
meal.

    The people whispered among themselves.  "A throne?  Who would ever
consider such a thing?"  But the king was adamant.  "I will have my
throne," he bellowed.  "It will be a gold throne, covered with precious
stones, and it will be ready by the end of this month!"

    No one dared question King Potbelly, once he had made up his mind
about something, and so work commenced on the throne.  It was decided that
the throne would be made of wood, with a layer of gold on the outside,
since the island was poor, and besides the people couldn't carry a solid
gold throne from the forge to the king's hut.

    The end of the month approached, and the king grew impatient.  Finally,
on the last day of the month, he stormed into the forge, demanding that
his throne be brought to him.  "I will have my throne," he bellowed loudy,
nearly knocking out the smith.  He had forgotten to brush his teeth after
his morning meal of bananas and raw oysters.

    The smith drew back a hanging curtain, and presented the newly
finished throne.  "I slaved all night over it, putting on the last
stones."  He bowed before Bubba.  "Does it please the king?"

    "Yeah, it makes me really happy.  Now bring it to my hut!"

    A parade gathered, to help carry the throne.  "Long live the king!
Long live Bubba Potbelly!"

    They arrived at the hut.  Bubba looked at the throne...and at the
hut...and at the throne again.  The people remained silent.  All except
for the dog, which barked at everyone.
    Bubba thought.  He thought for many minutes.  He finally reached the
conclusion that the throne would not fit through the door, let alone
accomodate his considerable girth.  "Put the throne on my roof," he
finally announced.  This made the people happy, for they were getting
tired of holding the throne while the king thought.

    The throne was slowly lifted up.  Many people slaved many minutes, but
the throne was finally placed on top of the king's grass hut, for all of
the island's inhabitants to see.  A cheer went up.  "Long live the king!
Long live Bubba Potbelly of Gigglesnort!!"

    Days went by, as the king grew bored.  He would stand outside and look
at his throne, and then go back inside and sit on his rock, as nothing else
would hold his weight.  Lower and lower the throne sank, until finally...
one day...

    CRRRACK!!!

    The people rushed out with one accord to see what had made this
terrible sound.  It wasn't the fisherman, falling asleep in his boat
again, and running into the rocks.  No, it was the king's hut, and the
king's throne.  And the king, underneath them both.

    The funeral lasted for many minutes.  Exactly three tears were shed,
when the smith got a splinter in his eye and had to dig it out.  All
ninety eight inhabitants (and the dog) finally decided that a monarchy was
a bad idea, so they decided on a democracy.

    The dog was elected by popular vote.

**********

The moral of the story is, "People in grass houses should not stow thrones."

...and if they did, they'd end up between a rock and a hard place.

*GRIN*

Damon Casale, scyth@andrew.cmu.edu

				* Love *
                 Between two people, there is nothing that
                      can draw them closer together