The First Fable (last one, I promise)
In Response To: another one (no MJ content) ()

The First Fable:
Two maggot brothers lived in an abandoned shovel handle which lay alongside broken wine bottles and scattered debris typical of urban space upon which once existed a four floor walkup complete with all the pathoistic drama imaginable. The maggots would forage. Nocturnal by necessity they would cautiously search their broken brick and dust domain for anything edible... all the while watching their back lest they be consumed by a bigger and stronger beast in need of very fresh vittles. Their existence, while not ideal, would have remained unchanged until their orderly demise by natural means or by natural order, alas this was not to be. A workman, with values, especially that of "waste not", spied the handle while rummaging amongst the ruins. The maggots were asleep when the workman picked up the handle, examined it and threw it over his shoulder while grunting approval to himself. The maggots grabbed ahold of anything they could to avoid being spilled ungloriously into the unknown, at this, they were unsuccessful. The first maggot flew like a stone and landed, with injury to his moving parts, into a crevice of some significance. This break in the city sidewalk was deep and jagged edged and the injured maggot was unable to extricate himself. His brother left the security of home barely seconds after his own departure. The second maggot also flew ineptly but was more fortunate in that he landed softly on the body of a dead squirrel. Delighted with his good fortune he began to gorge himself with gusto and it was three days later when the satiated maggot even considered what might have become of his brother. The fortunate maggot retraced his steps and after a journey of some hours, he came to the edge of the crevice. Speculatively he shouted into the chasm, "brother are you down there?" A weak voice replied "I'm down here brother, been here for three days and three nights, nary a drop of water to drink and not a morsal of food to eat, I'm damned near starved". "But look at you brother" said the starving maggot, "you're fat and you're sleek, to what do you attribute your success?" The fat maggot leaned over the edge of the crevice and intoned, in the most knowing basso profundo tone he could muster, the following: "Brains and personality brother, brains and personality".