In most fairy tales, caviar and vodka-fed cattle account for seventy-two percent of all alcohol-related deaths and sixteen percent of all unexpected pregnancies. (Photo courtesy of http://www.knowledgerush.com/wiki_image/a/a4/Cow.jpg)
Then one day the stock market crashed. The mother and father could no longer afford to feed the cow and their many children, so nine of their children starved to death. The tenth child, Jack, survived by eating his brothers and sisters after they died. The price of caviar and vodka continued to climb, however, so the mother and father made the most difficult decision of their lives: They had to sell the cow.
Jack was sent into town to trade the cow to Wal-Mart for food and condoms, but he sold the animal to a wandering gypsy instead.
“I’ll give you three magic beans for your cow,” the gypsy said.
Jack immediately sealed the trade because his cow was only worth one and a half magic beans according to the Kelley Blue Book. The boy took his beans and left. Twelve seconds later, the cow died from loneliness. The ensuing explosion could be seen from the moon.
Jack was no stranger to magic beans. He had been smoking them for year. These beans seemed unusually potent, though, so he refrained from using them. He wanted to test them on his parents first.
“This is nothing compared to what we did in the 60s,” his mom said. She took another drag of the bean and died.
Jack sold the second bean on eBay to pay for his mom’s funeral. That gave him an idea. Killing people with magic beans was one thing, but selling them on the black market was quite another. Fueled by dreams of becoming a great drug lord, Jack planted his final bean in the soil and waited.
Instead of a magic bean plant, Jack awoke the next morning to find a massive beanstalk reaching to the sky. “You’ll have to cut that down,” the homeowner’s association said. “It’s against code.”
Jack agreed, but he decided to climb the beanstalk first just in case there were any castles in the sky filled with murderous giants. To his chagrin, that was exactly the case.
“Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of an English man,” one giant said. “Be he alive or be he dead, I’ll grind his bones to make my bread.”
Jack launched a rocket-propelled grenade into the giant’s chest, killing him instantly. The boy then went through the rest of the castle, killing all who opposed him. When he was done, the cloud castle rained blood over the landscape below.
The blood storm was an abomination against nature and lightly colored clothing. The stains could not be removed by even the stoutest rocket-propelled grenades. (Photo courtesy of http://www.drewmcritchie.com/Gallery%20Pages/Red_Rain.jpg)
Jack started climbing back down the beanstalk, but the homeowner’s association cut it down because the boy’s blood storm had happened right after the neighborhood car wash. Jack fell 10,000 feet, but he was okay because people were tougher back then. He then slaughtered everyone in the homeowner’s association.
For many years, the land was ravaged by Jack and his nonsensical lust for blood. Finally, after many years of fruitless warfare, he became a Muslim and settled down to start a family. Muhammad Al-Jack had six children and one cow, which was delivered by cesarean section. They lived happily ever after until someone neglected the cow, which exploded and killed them all.
