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The Milkman Who Couldn't Sleep

Ronaldo was a milkman who found that he couldn't sleep at night. Rather than fight it, he determined to leave his house and sell milk.

The first door was answered by an elderly man who invited Ronaldo in for a glass of milk. Ronaldo sat at the table and said nothing until he realized that the old man was pouring him a glass of milk product from a competitor. Ronaldo went to stop the milk with his hands and his hands perished in the stream. As Ronaldo could no longer hold his own glass, the old man promptly ejected Ronaldo from his house.

The second door was answered by a man named Milton who had no defining characteristics except for an orange hankerchief tied around his head, a bionic arm, and an unforgettable expression of loyalty to governments of all manner. Ronaldo offered him a milk bottle. Milton picked up the bottle with his bionic arm. Impressed, Ronaldo retrieved the bottle of milk back from Milton's bionic arm. Milton uttered something in the language spoken by human internal organs. Ronaldo's stomach and lungs turned on their jetpacks and flew skyward.

The third door was answered by a priest millionaire. He had a giant cross made from crushed tens and twenties. As Ronaldo took a tour of the house, he looked around for spare internal organs and hands. As it happened the good Reverend took Ronaldo through a laboratory containing replacement body parts. Such excitement surged through Ronaldo that he ran toward a possible candidate stomach and lungs, running with such velocity so that he tripped and flew into a shoot that could only fit his lower body and his milk supplies. It was this remaining Ronaldo that was deposited outside the house and resumed the route.

The fourth door was answered by a pair of white-clad gentleman who took a beltsaw and whittled Ronaldo down to just a leg.

The fifth door was answered by a little colorblind girl with scorpions crawling all over her neck and arms. All she saw was the milk carton and Ronaldo's leg. So she thanked the carton of milk and squeezed a glass of blood from the opening in Ronaldo's leg.

by why the lucky stiff

march 11, 2003