Once upon a time (but not that one time you're thinking of), there were some
weasels. There were a whole mess of weasels, in fact, but three in particular are of
interest to us. Man, there's always a whole mess of weasels around, come to think
of it. Getting in the pantry, stretching out your favorite clothes, spilling harmful
chemicals into the water table and basically screwing things up. Damn slimey
weasels. Why can't they just leave us alone? All the lower animals are always
trying to get back at us, as if they do a fucking thing for the environment. Just eat
and shit and dig holes all over my goddamn yard, that's what they do. I catch
another gopher planting his holes among the crevices and troughs in my yard, and
I'll shove a handful of buckshot right up his ass.
So these three weasels are having some stupid little adventure or something.
You know, frolicking and cavorting, gadding about--an adventure. They're doing
their thing, romping about a glade or something, and Cecile (the most viscous
weasel) says to Lucille and Cecile (spelled the same, pronounced differently),
"Hey." After a while, when they finally noticed him, he said, "What the hell? Pay
attention. Let's go over to the old haunted wizard's mansion." The other two
thought first, "No way!" then after a moment, "Wait maybe," and then "Sure,
yeah!" The old mansion was the home of a friendly old wizard, who was haunted
by the spirits of all those denizens of the forest whom he had aided over the years.
The ghosts and spectres could be heard at all times of the day, hollering and
screeching, hurling insults and fish at the poor wizard, and bitching to each other
about their dead-end jobs.
All the citizens of the forest, the animals and plants, the bugs and protozoa,
even the magical faeries and imps, all were warned to stay away from the kind
wizard, lest he visit one of his many wondrous miracles upon them. The sick and
poor were especially threatened and cajoled by the others to keep clear of the
mystical benefactor, for he might at any time heal them entirely or give them free
money or half-sandwiches with soup of the day, on the house. Any persons who
dared to enter the mage's home were cursed forever, and until their death they
would live healthy, worry-free lives, hiding their inner shame in every way. After
their deaths, however, they would let loose with all their pent-up anger and hatred,
and repay the wizard in spades for all he had done. Their eternal afterlife would be
spent hocking up ghost-spit on the wizard and ridiculing his eyebrows, instead of
enjoying the joyous nirvana they deserved.
Yeah, so, the weasels figured they'd go see this guy anyways, and maybe help
the ghosts kick him or something. On the way to his stately demesne, they
invented fanciful appelations and phrases to harm the wizard with.
"I'll call him 'Dorko'," cried Cecile.
"I'll point out the weak nature of his being," cried Lucille.
"And I'll poke him in the side, ever so lightly, over and over
until it really bugs him!" cried Cecile.
Eventually, as in a couple weeks later, they arrived at the castle. They had been
sidetracked by something (I forget what), had gone home, had dinner, and gone
about their lives for a while. Then finally, they decided again to go to the wizard,
since they were really bored and that's just the way kids are these days. Always
zipping off to do some crazy stunts or wild escapades (probably involving drugs!),
and then coming back like nothing's wrong. No, no, nothing's going on,
everything's fine and normal. Yeah, right! Next thing you know, they've stolen
your car and gone to New Zealand! They'll come back with tattoos and earrings,
and more stories than you'll ever hear. No good can come of it, I guarantee.
The weasel kids are doing their thing then, cursing the wizard up and down,
much to the amusement of the ghosts on duty. Suddenly the wizard just up and
turns Lucille into a princess! Of all the nerve. One minute a perfectly stinky
weasel, the next a beautiful lady, decked out in a gown and jewels and shit. She
kept her cool, though, and immediately began to dance around, giggling and
smirking as if she actually liked it, so that the wizard would get no satisfaction
from her pain. Cecile and Cecile, however, immediately went apeshit, and began
to tear into the wizard's flesh with their powerful incisors. The wizard was too
clever for them, and through his hideous, light-hearted laughter he bellowed,
"There's enough for you boys, too-- come and get it!" In the blink of an eye, they
were weighted down with so much gold and beautiful artwork that they couldn't
move, much less wreak their revenge on the fiendish warlock.
And so, as the wizard tittered and guffawed, and the dejected ghosts returned to
their flying pleasure-domes, the defeated young rodents trod heavily back to the
forest, bearing the valuable burden they would carry for the rest of their lives.
They hid their sorrow well, and spent the rest of their days frightening youngsters
with their tales of the Golden Wizard and his Doom-Filled Treasure Castle of Free
And it's thus that it's always said, usually in self-righteous tone of voice,
"Magic is the root of all evil, most likely because it doesn't exist."