Relay-Version: version B 2.10 5/3/83; site utzoo.UUCP
Posting-Version: version B 2.10 5/3/83; site rruxo.UUCP
Path: utzoo!watmath!clyde!cbosgd!ihnp4!mhuxn!mhuxb!mhuxr!ulysses!gamma!pyuxww!pyuxv!rruxo!sitze
From: sitze@rruxo.UUCP (R Sitze)
Newsgroups: net.jokes
Subject: Dedicated to BellCore and to AT&T : We're in this together
Message-ID: <136@rruxo.UUCP>
Date: Thu, 7-Feb-85 12:12:23 EST
Article-I.D.: rruxo.136
Posted: Thu Feb  7 12:12:23 1985
Date-Received: Sat, 9-Feb-85 05:41:18 EST
Organization: Bell Communications Research, Piscataway N.J.
Lines: 109


	Once upon a time there lived a king who ruled over a small but
wealthy kingdom.  This king was very kind to his people, and was liked
by all the other kings, so he never had any problem with wars and other
such trivial matters.  His people spent a good 8 hours a day working in
the fields, and then went home to their wives.  After a good nights sleep,
they got up bright and early, and went out to the fields.  Now the town
was built inside a large wall, and in the center of the town was the castle.
Around the outside of the wall was a deep, dark, but clean moat.  To get to
the fields, the people had to cross this moat.  When the town was built, a
couple of hundred years earlier, things were not a peacefull as they were now,
so only one door was built throught the wall and only one draw bridge went
over the moat.  As things went, things were fairly good for these people.
Well anyway, as usually happens when such a situation arises, something goes
wrong after a while.

	One fine summer morning, the people got up bright and early, had a
good breakfast, and went out to work.  The king looked out a castle window
to watch his people off to work, as he did every morning.  As the first man
walked out over the draw bridge, a LARGE pair of yellow hands reached out
on either side of the draw bridge, and grabbed the man.  Down went the hands
back under the draw bridge, a small smacking sound echoed out over the town,
and then a loud CRUNCH was heard.  As everyone's jaws dropped in amazement,
anger, and finally fear; a BURP resounded across the moat.  The draw brige
was quickly raised, and everyone huddled in fear within the town. 

	In a small conference in the west tower of the castle, the king sat
with his best priests, philosophers, mystics, and knights.  "What shall we do"
was the immediate question at hand, and they argued about it for hours.  It was
noted that nobody could get out of the town, so no one could send for help,
nor could anybody take care of the fields.  "Our food will go to waist" cried
the king, "and our supply is small as we have not harvested this year, Oh what
shall we do?"  The philosophers philosophized about the various social and
religious implications of the problem, not to mention the moral problems.
"Just think what the people will be doing all day sitting at home with their
wives" cried the priests, who firmly believed that to much pleasure was bad
for the soul.  The knights, being so brave and firmly believing that
"might makes right" told to priests not to worry about it and announced
to the king that they would "take care of the problem on the morrow.."

	Early the next morning, about twenty of the best knights let down
the draw bridge, and started across.  They aligned themselves with ten facing
each side of the draw bridge, and waited.  They didn't have long to wait
as two tenths of a seconds later a yellow hand reached up on each side of the
draw bridge, swooped the whole mass into it's hands, and returned to the 
moat.  Gurgles, crunches, screams and burps were heard for the rest of the
morning.  This so upset the wives of these brave and foolish knights
(God rest their souls), that they too ran out onto the draw bridge brandishing
knives, mops, rolling pins, and pans.  The predictable results followed, which
left the town to listen to even more noise for the rest of the day.  The next
day, the older more experienced knights took their last stand also.  Again the
yellow hands swooped out, grabbed, and disappeared.  The town waited.  And
waited.  And waited longer.  The priests tried to dispell the evil spirit, and
were disposed of quickly, as were the mystics when they tried various spells
and drew secret symbols of power on the draw bridge.

	One month later, when all the food in the town was eaten, along with
most of the horses, the king held another council in which it was decided that
prehaps the yellow fingers were gone, and besides, the people had to have food
anyway, so lets send the farmers out to get some...  And so it happened that
as a large group of farmers crept silently over the bridge, that the town lost
the last of it's men-folk.  The women cried, daughters wept, and the boys
burnt the wiping post.  The king was feeling somewhat desperate for something
to happen to alleviate them of the problem by this time, and because there
were no more knights, priests, or other advisors; he held an emergency meeting
with the page boys.  He told them that unless someone could get food, everyone
would soon starve to death, and that unless they could rectify the situation
they might have to resort to cannabalism, and that he thought 'page stew'
sounded awfully good about now (he was in a bit of a bad mood...).  Thus the
page boys took their turn.

	As the page boys tip-toed across the draw bridge, the yellow hands
swept up in a rush to grab the boys, but just before they grabbed the page
boys, they stopped.  When the poor boys' hearts started up again, they look
in fear, amazement, and disgust.  "Look at them dirty fingernails" one of
them exclaimed feeling somewhat alive and jovial, "there bloody filthy...".
And so they went into the weedy fields.  The hands returned to their normal
place under the draw bridge.  As the page boys returned bearing huge baskets
and bags of grain and weeds (they had to eat something...), the hands again
appeared and stopped as before.  So it happened that the town survived, and
the hands disappeared about a year later as whatever monster it was that owned
them went in search of food again.






















	The Moral of the Story :

		Let the Pages do the walking through the Yellow Fingers....