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April 15th, 2005

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04:39 pm - The Tale of Two Ply
Once upon a time (to be precise, 2:38 post-meridien June 28th, 1892) when the inventor Colonel James "Killer" Orange-Broomhead, GC, KG, GBE, GCVO, FRS, ARA, MP (Ret.), RN, B.A., B.S., EdD, PhD, JD, BSc (hon.), M.Div., MPhil, BChir, was contemplating the sanitary facilities of his demesne (No. 53 Pickleberry Lane, Chesterfield, Derbyshire, S418AE.)

From his studies he arose and from his study he emerged. He went among the wise people of the house (well, actually the maid, the groom, and an elderly cat named Roger) and inquired of them what the great unhappiness among them was. "For," he said," I have gone among you and have seen the mark of sadness on your faces, not to mention an 11% decrease in work efficiency since this time last year."

First spake the maid, "Sir, we ha' no' the 'appiness to ken whet ye dither." In the manner of Thucydides, I have not the exact words of her speech but they were, without a doubt, similar to what I have presented to the reader, albeit perhaps with a few more glottal stops and other such regional linguistic peculiarities.

Roger's only response to the question was to hack up a hairball.

Killer nodded absently and padded down the line to the next in line. He put the question to the groom, Mr. William Reginald Bakely who responded with the cryptic comment, "You ain't givin' us 'nuff paper, lud."

"Aha!" shouted Killer with glee. "Aha! We shall rectify this most pressing paper problem."

"Alliteration," remarked Roger.

"Nevertheless," Killer said," Tis time to go forth and acquire that which we most lack."

A visit to the Johnson, Bakely, & Chigwell, Mssrs, Purveyors of Dry Goods suggested two solutions; two-ply and three-ply. "Surely," reasoned Killer, "If one is unacceptable, and two is better, then three must be best."

"Burp!" said Roger, as he ate some dry goods.

"Yes, we'll take a box of those as well as your most glorious triple-ply," said Killer to the clerk (Charles Bakely, Jr.) who proceeded to charge the delegation 2d 11/-.

Back at the castle, the three plied paper was installed. The maid said it was "pleasin' as toast, yer Grace excepted, up roun' the widdershins, knick the kicker's bocker, an' Bob's yer uncle." The groom grunted and grumbled but everyone agreed that his grunts and grumbles were happy ones.

Roger, however, caught the lower end of the paper, and started munching happily on it. "Great Scott!" yelled Killer, "By Gum! Tally ho! Freiburg-im-Breisgau! This is not acceptable! Roger, I demand that you not eat the triple ply paper. Roger, I demand you stop hacking. Roger, I demand that you stop choking! Roger, I demand you don't lie there like a dead thing" (for that was what Roger was doing.

After a brief funeral in a shepherd's pie, the unhappy party set forth on a quest to the store to buy a new kitten and two ply paper. Having obtained these and installed them (paper in the water closet and kitten on the lap of the maid,) Killer was moved to write down his memoirs (The Tale of Two Ply, Harcourt and Brace, 4d 12/-, at your local bookseller.)

In the inscription and dedication wrote he, "In memoriam of a damnable fine pie and in recognition of the moral that three ply killed the cat."

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