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Archive / ...after-all, that is what WACUP is
« on: February 26, 2017, 11:17:06 AM »
"Sod this for a game of getting-lost-in-the-dark !" Echoed across the hillside.
And so the one rebel Llama, despondent with the herd and its new pack-leader, made his weary way down the mountain to find new pastures.
On this long and winding journey the lonely Llama met a few old stragglers from the mountain, who are also despondent and tired, but they are all glad to see him and slowly but steadily they started to follow in his tracks.
"There is another mountain to climb, and it may be hard going and slim-pickings" he told those that now looked expectantly at him. "and some of the new things here may make you sick".
The bravest of the other Llamas stepped forward and said "we are healthy and will take that risk for the benefit of the herd". "We will take small bites and tell you how we feel".
The lonely Llama did not feel so lonely any more. He was happy that the other Llamas had his back and so he smiled a big toothy Llama smile and declared, "oh brave Llamas because you are willing to risk falling over for the faithful flock as we look for better grazing, you shall be the Beta-team".
He looked up the new mountain and thought to himself "Well, I am master of my own destiny, the outlook is nice, every one else has to stare up my arse while we climb, and the other arse-holes are on the other mountain".
As the proud pack meanderered up the mountain, the wise old Llama mulled-over the mornings' meaning, and pondered on the position of the present peak, and if it projected more prominently than the previous place.
He smiled and slowly chewed his cud as he thought "When the wind is blowing the right way, I shall fart in their general direction".
After climbing several milestones, a nervous voice could be heard emmitting from the herd "Please sir ! do we allow Alpacas in this pack ?"
"Of course we do!" laughed the Llama-leader, "we are the most inclusive herd in the world. We already accept ZIPpackers, RARpackers and are open with AL, so all Alpacas will be welcome".
Murmurings of contentment rippled through the herd, and the owner of the nervous voice stepped forward to ask another question, "...umm, what about the Ginger ones? I hear they are night-stalkers and don't have souls."
The old Llama stopped chewing for a moment, and spat a wad of cud off a ledge, watching it drop and swirl until it could no longer be seen.
"We will talk about it on the way" he said, as he wondered how to break the news that his followers' facial fur was not the "Strawbery-Blonde" his Mother had claimed.
That night was a peaceful one on the mountain.
....apart from the farting and occasional sobbing of 1 member of the herd.
And so the one rebel Llama, despondent with the herd and its new pack-leader, made his weary way down the mountain to find new pastures.
On this long and winding journey the lonely Llama met a few old stragglers from the mountain, who are also despondent and tired, but they are all glad to see him and slowly but steadily they started to follow in his tracks.
"There is another mountain to climb, and it may be hard going and slim-pickings" he told those that now looked expectantly at him. "and some of the new things here may make you sick".
The bravest of the other Llamas stepped forward and said "we are healthy and will take that risk for the benefit of the herd". "We will take small bites and tell you how we feel".
The lonely Llama did not feel so lonely any more. He was happy that the other Llamas had his back and so he smiled a big toothy Llama smile and declared, "oh brave Llamas because you are willing to risk falling over for the faithful flock as we look for better grazing, you shall be the Beta-team".
He looked up the new mountain and thought to himself "Well, I am master of my own destiny, the outlook is nice, every one else has to stare up my arse while we climb, and the other arse-holes are on the other mountain".
As the proud pack meanderered up the mountain, the wise old Llama mulled-over the mornings' meaning, and pondered on the position of the present peak, and if it projected more prominently than the previous place.
He smiled and slowly chewed his cud as he thought "When the wind is blowing the right way, I shall fart in their general direction".
After climbing several milestones, a nervous voice could be heard emmitting from the herd "Please sir ! do we allow Alpacas in this pack ?"
"Of course we do!" laughed the Llama-leader, "we are the most inclusive herd in the world. We already accept ZIPpackers, RARpackers and are open with AL, so all Alpacas will be welcome".
Murmurings of contentment rippled through the herd, and the owner of the nervous voice stepped forward to ask another question, "...umm, what about the Ginger ones? I hear they are night-stalkers and don't have souls."
The old Llama stopped chewing for a moment, and spat a wad of cud off a ledge, watching it drop and swirl until it could no longer be seen.
"We will talk about it on the way" he said, as he wondered how to break the news that his followers' facial fur was not the "Strawbery-Blonde" his Mother had claimed.
That night was a peaceful one on the mountain.
....apart from the farting and occasional sobbing of 1 member of the herd.
