Fairy Tale Friday 11
The Goof who Laid the Golden Egg
A fraud and a goof were walking along the same old tired road, for the hundredth time, when the Goof lifted up her purple tarp, intending to emit an ordinary, every day, average Easy Mac fart.
To their utter surprise, the Goof laid not a processed noodle fart, but a gleaming golden egg! "I should have known I would be expected to lay all the golden eggs, nobody sees Mexicans and other non-white people doing this on their own time, I should be compensated for this like I saw on that show about collectible dolls with Richard Simmons, when he was saying we're all beautiful and useful and have a purpose in life but really I think I should just get paid to do this at home instead of outside where people see a white woman laying a golden egg and they all want a piece of it!" she said.
The fraud, seeing the golden egg, entertained a brief memory of having started the golden egg laying trend himself many years ago, when he met the goof in a bar and gave her the idea. "This was all MY idea," he muttered under his breath, and came up with a cunning plan to finance his lifestyle in a way that didn't involve getting his anus rinsed out with coffee every day by his overbearing, equally fraudulent wife who always wore the pants in their house.
"Goof," he said, "I'll bet there's more where that came from. Let's
see if we can't harvest the rest of your eggs, and make me a fortune!"
"You?" said the goof. "Good luck with THAT!"
"I meant you, of course," said the fraud. "Now lie here while I perform a little operation on you."
"Duh, okay" said the goof, and she hoisted up her tarp and dropped her khakis and spread out on the ground like a loose, undercooked pancake.
The fraud split her belly from crotch to neck, and after hours of labor had separated the slabs of pink meat to reveal the treasure within: one dented can of Dinty Moore beef stew, one plastic angel figurine, one yam with a bite taken out of it, one license plate, two Readers' Digests, and a bottle of drugstore brand "musk" scented perfume oil.
"There's nothing good in here at all!" he shouted.
With her dying breath, the goof whispered, "Exactly."
The end! Happy Friday AGAIN. God.