The Story of Stinkton

This is a random story I just whipped out in a few minutes.

#noonetoemail

Once upon a time there was an prodigious clod of dirt. His name was Stinkton. Now, Stinkton was a very stinky clod of dirt, and his stench was known throughout all the land of the clods. Stinkton was very self-conscious of his scent, and could often be found in the corner of the community gardens singing a sad song that went something like this:

O that I were not

a clod that smelled of rot.

Then perhaps my heart could find a gal.

She would be my honey sweet,

and she could be my queenly treat.

And we could then call each other 'pal'.

Every day, Stinkton would weep in the garden and sing is sad song of longing. One day, a beautiful womanly dirt clod with fine curves was wondering through the garden, when she heard is longing cry. She found his voice so alluring, her mind completely blocked out the awful stench she smelt, and she was completely enraptured by his voice. Mindlessly, she followed his call like a sailor following a siren, to at last she entered the clearing where he stood. There she stood, transfixed, as Stinkton mournfully finished his song. Then he looked up, and saw her. "What do you want?" He said bluntly.

"I want you." She whispered back seductively.

For a moment, he was at a loss for words. Finally, he managed to stammer, "Well, then. Let us be wed immediately!"

And so they were. And they lived happily ever after for the rest of time and all eternity and had many baby dirt clods, even as the sands of the sea, (or the dirt of the forest).

THE END

--

Elder Benge