Sin Threatens Scooter’s Freedom
What is the greatest threat to Scooter’s freedom? Easy that, sin. Sin threatens Scooter’s freedom. Scooter sinned, so now his freedom is in jeopardy, maybe.
Yepper, lying is right up there with gluttony as the worst of the twain sins. So Scooter may have to lose his freedom, because Scooter is a convicted liar. But so what. Almost everybody lies, but hardly anybody gets convicted, considering the probable statistics. Do you intuitively believe that the ratio of convicted liars to general liars is tiny? Course you do.
Yepper, almost everybody lies once in a while. Yet, hardly any of the liars lose their freedom as an immediate result of their lying, sinful ways, maybe. Maybe!
Goodness gracious! Do you remember that first ensnaring lie? There you were, lying. Maybe you got caught. There you were, red dye number two all over yourself.
I aint et no popsickles.
No. Then how did you get that red dye number two all over yourself, Baby Ray? What’s that in your hand Baby Ray, popsickle sticks?
Them popsickle sticks is toys I found, er, Rayetta give em to me. Yepper, Rayetta must have et up them popsickles and left me the sticks to play with.
Baby Ray, you are a wicked liar in mortal danger of losing your freedom to sin forever. So to save you from all that, I Badgemagus Swineherd, Ph D., am fixing to show you what happens to liars. Yes Ray, liars lose their freedom. Ray do you see this great collecting bag?
Yepper.
Do you know what is in this great collecting bag?
Noper. Snuffle.
Well Baby Ray, I shall then, wise you up. This great collecting bag contains multiple specimens of all the flax flowers (Linaceae) in these parts. Alas, the petals have gone deciduous from all the flowers. So you Ray, shall be chained to your little desk in the laboratory until such time as you have all the petals glued back on their original insertion points on the appropriate gynoeciums. Plus, the specimens need to be mounted and labeled Do you understand all that, Baby Ray?
Yepper. Snuffle.
In addition, Baby Ray, you shall take all your meals at your little desk until your onerous task is quite finished up to my satisfaction. The menu, while you are chained to your desk, shall be mashed turnips garnished with pickled beets. Do you understand all that, Baby Ray?
Yepper. Snuffle.
There I was, Baby Ray, chained to my little desk with naught to look forward to but mashed turnips with pickled beets. There I was chained up in the near stygian darkness, deep within the musty bowels of the Druid Tabby Lab with no hope of escape, ever. Plus, after three hours at the onerous task, I only had one petal glued on to a gynoecium. Not only that, that one dang petal and gynoecium didn’t seem to want to match up quite right, either. Snuffle. Mercy!
Long I labored. After awhile I got four petals glued on a gynoecium. But then one of those original four petals fell off when I tried to glue on a fifth petal, necessary to make a set. Dern it. I shall be trapped by my sins down here fer ever.
Ray, here’s yer supper, some nice mashed turnips with pickled beets sliced up on top.
Hark! My sister, Rayetta. Oh my goodness gracious, Rayetta, I have been especially wicked. First, I et up all them popsickles. Then I lied and told Badgemagus you et up all them popsickles. Then I lied again and told Badgemagus you gimme them popsickle sticks to play with. And now I am trapped by them sins fer ever. Snuffle. Boo-hoo.
Yes, Ray, you have been especially wicked. Nevertheless, I feel sorry fer ye, so after ye eat up all yer turnips and beets, we shall address this onerous task once and for all, together. Praise the Goddess!
In those days, I actually liked mashed turnips and pickled beets. So after a hearty meal I felt lots better. Plus, Rayetta made a game out of gluing all those dang petals on those dern gynoeciums. Pretty soon we had that great multitude of flax specimens all mounted up and labeled.
In these days of freedom, contemplating the wages of sin, I make pilgrimages to the Druid Tabby Lab.
Hey Badgemagus, I need to pull the Linaceae sheets.
All righty then, Ray
Yepper, lying is right up there with gluttony as the worst of the twain sins. So Scooter may have to lose his freedom, because Scooter is a convicted liar. But so what. Almost everybody lies, but hardly anybody gets convicted, considering the probable statistics. Do you intuitively believe that the ratio of convicted liars to general liars is tiny? Course you do.
Yepper, almost everybody lies once in a while. Yet, hardly any of the liars lose their freedom as an immediate result of their lying, sinful ways, maybe. Maybe!
Goodness gracious! Do you remember that first ensnaring lie? There you were, lying. Maybe you got caught. There you were, red dye number two all over yourself.
I aint et no popsickles.
No. Then how did you get that red dye number two all over yourself, Baby Ray? What’s that in your hand Baby Ray, popsickle sticks?
Them popsickle sticks is toys I found, er, Rayetta give em to me. Yepper, Rayetta must have et up them popsickles and left me the sticks to play with.
Baby Ray, you are a wicked liar in mortal danger of losing your freedom to sin forever. So to save you from all that, I Badgemagus Swineherd, Ph D., am fixing to show you what happens to liars. Yes Ray, liars lose their freedom. Ray do you see this great collecting bag?
Yepper.
Do you know what is in this great collecting bag?
Noper. Snuffle.
Well Baby Ray, I shall then, wise you up. This great collecting bag contains multiple specimens of all the flax flowers (Linaceae) in these parts. Alas, the petals have gone deciduous from all the flowers. So you Ray, shall be chained to your little desk in the laboratory until such time as you have all the petals glued back on their original insertion points on the appropriate gynoeciums. Plus, the specimens need to be mounted and labeled Do you understand all that, Baby Ray?
Yepper. Snuffle.
In addition, Baby Ray, you shall take all your meals at your little desk until your onerous task is quite finished up to my satisfaction. The menu, while you are chained to your desk, shall be mashed turnips garnished with pickled beets. Do you understand all that, Baby Ray?
Yepper. Snuffle.
There I was, Baby Ray, chained to my little desk with naught to look forward to but mashed turnips with pickled beets. There I was chained up in the near stygian darkness, deep within the musty bowels of the Druid Tabby Lab with no hope of escape, ever. Plus, after three hours at the onerous task, I only had one petal glued on to a gynoecium. Not only that, that one dang petal and gynoecium didn’t seem to want to match up quite right, either. Snuffle. Mercy!
Long I labored. After awhile I got four petals glued on a gynoecium. But then one of those original four petals fell off when I tried to glue on a fifth petal, necessary to make a set. Dern it. I shall be trapped by my sins down here fer ever.
Ray, here’s yer supper, some nice mashed turnips with pickled beets sliced up on top.
Hark! My sister, Rayetta. Oh my goodness gracious, Rayetta, I have been especially wicked. First, I et up all them popsickles. Then I lied and told Badgemagus you et up all them popsickles. Then I lied again and told Badgemagus you gimme them popsickle sticks to play with. And now I am trapped by them sins fer ever. Snuffle. Boo-hoo.
Yes, Ray, you have been especially wicked. Nevertheless, I feel sorry fer ye, so after ye eat up all yer turnips and beets, we shall address this onerous task once and for all, together. Praise the Goddess!
In those days, I actually liked mashed turnips and pickled beets. So after a hearty meal I felt lots better. Plus, Rayetta made a game out of gluing all those dang petals on those dern gynoeciums. Pretty soon we had that great multitude of flax specimens all mounted up and labeled.
In these days of freedom, contemplating the wages of sin, I make pilgrimages to the Druid Tabby Lab.
Hey Badgemagus, I need to pull the Linaceae sheets.
All righty then, Ray
posted by ray pistrum at Monday, June 11, 2007
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