Well, here it is, kiddos; the very first official Story of the Week. Written almost exactly (gulp) 18 years ago (February 28, to be exact), this story went out to all of two members if I remember correctly. There was, of course, Roxie (for whom I had started the club) and there was Lisa (who I had basically forced to be in it; good thing she seemed to enjoy herself!).
As we go on with the SotWC Classics, I’ll provide historical context where necessary. But this goofy little story doesn’t have anything like that, so let’s just get into it, eh? [ed. note: I once again received no art submissions and had to put something together myself, but I don’t have time to do a whole drawing cuz I have to work in the morning. So you get the first ever SotWC photo collage! Yay!]
Subject: WELCOME TO THE CLUB (story #1)
Date: Mon, 28 Feb 94 19:17:51 EST
Hello and welcome to the first installment of the “Story of the Week.” All of us here at the club are very proud and happy that we can share these stories with others. We hope that in that in the weeks to come, you will be morally, spiritually, and culturally edified. But while you’re waiting for that to happen, you can at least read some stories.
This week’s tale deals with a fact of life that everyone must eventually face.
HERMAN AND ED AND THE BROCCOLI STALK FROM HELL
Not to long ago, in the small town of Cumquat, Mo. there lived a man named Herman. He was a farmer. The problem was that he lived in a residential neighborhood, so he was naturally out of work. Every week, he would get in his pick-up truck and go to the Cumquat Employment commission and ask “Any farms in town yet?” and every week, the response would be the same.
They would laugh.
Now, one day, as Herman was headed back home from the employment office, he saw a man hitch-hiking on the side of the road. So he ran him over.
About two hours later, he got to feeling bad about this, so he went back out and found the man laying in a ditch.
“Hey!” Herman said, “you all right?”
“Well,” the man said, “I been better.”
“Oh, yeah?” said Herman, “when was that?”
“Well,” the man replied, “there was this on time when I went to Cancun for a vacation, and I met this beautiful woman named Flybutt. She was really nice, and we talked for hours and hours. I really felt that I got to know her very well, and I was terribly thankful for having met her. It was one of the finest trips I’ve ever taken.”
Herman was puzzled. “So, did you have sex with her or what?” he asked.
The man looked Herman squarely in the eye and asked “would you have sex with a woman named Flybutt?”
“Good point,” said Herman, and helped the man out of the ditch.
Twenty minutes later, they were back at Herman’s house. He brought the man in and laid him on the couch. “So what’s yer name, anyway?” he asked.
“Oh, my name is Ed.” the man responded, “thanks for asking.”
“Uh, sure,” Herman replied. “So, you want something to eat?”
“Okay,” said Ed, “Whattaya got?”
Herman opened the cupboard and looked around for a few minutes. Then he remembered that the reason he had opened the cupboard was to look in there, not just to look around. So, he looked, but all he saw was blackness (he had inexplicably gone blind while looking around).
“Well,” he said, “I seem to have gone blind, but yer welcome to look around the kitchen for some chow.”
“Okay,” said Ed, walking into the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator, and the first thing he saw was a stalk of broccoli. “Hey,” he said, “that looks good.”
“What’s that?” asked Herman.
“Well, there’s a stalk of broccoli in here,” Ed replied, “and I think I’ll eat it if it’s all the same to you.”
“Well, gee,” said Herman, “you’re welcome to it, but I guess I should warn you that that broccoli stalk is from hell.”
“Gosh!” said Ed, looking at the broccoli, “when did you go to hell to get broccoli?”
“Don’t be silly,” Herman said, “it’s imported.”
“Oh,” said Ed.
We hoped you’ve enjoyed the story of the week. See you next Monday!
Of course we won’t “see you next Monday,” we’ll see you next Thursday. That’s just how the original email ended and we left it that way for its intrinsic historical value. You’ll thank us later. And by “thank us” I mean “most likely forget about it entirely.” So, you know, see you next Thursday!