There were once four powerful witch covens: the witches of the mountains, the deserts, the forests, and the seas. For a thousand years they made war with one another, casting curses and hexes and bringing all manner of malady to the land in their hatred for one another. One day, they decided the only solution was to convene for a meeting of all the covens, in which they would either strike a deal for peace, or end it all in violent bloodshed.
The sea witches arrived first, carried upon a tidal wave that bore them up and onto the coast, the waters crashing loudly as they struck the shoreline as if to announce their presence.
The mountain witches rode down the hillside upon magical storm clouds, thunder and lightning bursting from their steeds of vapor, a tumultuous blizzard ravaging the mountains in their wake.
The forest witches, shape-shifters, emerged in the form of gnarled roots which encircled the meeting place and rose out of the ground, bending and twisting into humanoid silhouettes from which sprung skin and clothing, as a flurry of leaves swirled around furiously.
The sand witches arrived in a catering truck.
An old man, a boy and a donkey were going to town.
The boy rode on the donkey and the old man walked.
As they went along they passed some people who remarked it was a shame the old man was walking and the boy was riding.
The man and boy thought maybe the critics were right, so they changed positions.
Later, they passed some people that remarked, "What a shame, he makes that little boy walk."
They then decided they both would walk!
Soon they passed some more people who thought they were stupid to walk when they had a decent donkey to ride.
So they both rode the donkey.
Now they passed some people that shamed them by saying how awful to put such a load on a poor donkey.
The boy and man said they were probably right, so they decided to carry the donkey.
As they crossed the bridge, they lost their grip on the animal and it fell into the river and drowned.
The moral of the story? If you try to please everyone, you might as well kiss your ass good-bye.
On the outskirts of a small town, there was a big, old pecan tree just inside the cemetery fence. One day, two boys filled up a bucketful of nuts and sat down by the tree, out of sight, and began dividing the nuts.
"One for you, one for me, one for you, one for me," said one boy. Several dropped and rolled down toward the fence. Another boy came riding along the road on his bicycle. As he passed, he thought he heard voices from inside the cemetery. He slowed down to investigate. Sure enough, he heard, "One for you, one for me, one for you, one for me ...."
He just knew what it was. He jumped back on his bike and rode off. Just around the bend, he met an old man with a cane, hobbling along.
"Come here quick," said the boy, "you won't believe what I heard! The Devil and the Lord are down at the cemetery dividing up the souls!"
The man said, "Beat it, kid, can't you see it's hard for me to walk." When the boy insisted though, the man hobbled slowly to the cemetery.
Standing by the fence they heard, "One for you, one for me. One for you, one for me."
The old man whispered, "Boy, you've been tellin' me the truth. Let's see if we can see the Lord...?" Shaking with fear, they peered through the fence, yet were still unable to see anything. The old man and the boy gripped the wrought iron bars of the fence tighter and tighter as they tried to get a glimpse of the Lord.
At last, they heard, "One for you, one for me. That's all. Now let's go get those nuts by the fence and we'll be done."
The old man beat the boy to the gate.To enable your Ad-Free Subscription, please fill the fields below
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