THE FABLE OF THE FIRELESS VILLAGE
History and Fiction collide dangerously in this moral tale suitable for all ages

One day, a wise old man wandered into town from the mountains beyond. He had heard about the fighting, as well as the sale on saffron, which was hard to come by in his part of the country. He called the people together and said to them,

"Can't you see that your fighting is useless? You all agree on the same rule, but you argue why the rule exists! Better to let the rule be accepted by all and leave the details alone."

The three factions each sent a delegate to meet with the man, late at night while he slept. As his was a presumptuous statement for a complete stranger to make, the delegates brained him as he slept and disposed of him in the community bear pit. Common enemy eliminated, the village resumed its fighting early the next day.

A year later, a second wise old man came in town from the mountains beyond. He had heard of the strife in the village, and he saw that things had gotten really rather awful. The villagers were hungry and cranky, and some of them had been sleeping poorly, but they still would have no fires. In a stunning display of tripartisanship not seen since the demise of the previous wise old man, they came together and asked the wise old man for help. He said,

"Ahh. It is lucky for you that I came into town. I have a way of heating your food that will require no smoke, nor will it destroy the beautiful trees in your town. Several months ago, I discovered this method quite by accident, whilst inventing something I call "The Spinning Pants." I broke my femur in the attempt, and only got rid of the cast the day before I came here. Except for my attempt to eat eleven pounds of bacon in one sitting, it was the silliest thing I ever did."

With that, he dropped over dead. His last words were actually untrue, as the silliest thing he ever did was walk all the way down from the mountains into the village the very day after he got his leg out of a cast. An old man doing all that exercise after lying in bed for so long should not be surprised that a clot would enter his brain so suddenly and fell him. The townspeople gnashed their teeth, but this act solved nothing, so they stopped the gnashing and dragged his body to the bear pit. A day later, they dragged it back out again, as what kind of animal wants to have anything to do with eating a blood clot? The day after that, they dragged the body to the hyena pit, as hyenas will eat anything, even clots and bones and hooves.

Another year went by, and things worsened in the town. Nobody was eating, and everybody was still sort of fighting, though they really didn't have the energy to do more than raise their voices at each other. One day, a simple man from the lands beyond the mountains came into town. The man, noticing the widespread trouble, asked,

"What is the widespread trouble here? Why isn't anyone eating?"

A man nearby gave a brief account of the situation, highlighting mostly the problems around the god of the sun troubles. Then the townspeople cried out,

"We are quite distraught. We have no way of heating our food without fires! We cannot go on like this, eating tinned meats and making hoagies with cold mayonnaise! Tell us, tell us, oh kind sir, what we can do, and we will make you our king!"

The simple man replied,

"What about your god of the sun? Even if you don't believe he can see through smoke, or if you do not believe in him at all, does anyone here doubt the sun exists?"

The townspeople cried out,

"No, but that's really not what we're talking about here."

The simple man then said,

"The sun gives warmth. Try leaving your mayonnaise out in the sun for a few days. You will find it gets plenty warm. Hot even."

The townspeople rejoiced and did as the simple man suggested. Sure enough, their mayonnaise was warmed by the sun for a few days, and there was a great hoagie feast in the town, with only the simple man refusing to eat, as he had a full meal just an hour earlier. At the close of the evening, the simple man was made king of the village, which was in truth a bit of a slight against the mayor of the town, who had been elected democratically less than a year ago. The party lasted long into the night.

The next day, all of the villagers were dead, having eaten the bad mayonnaise. The moral of the story is, Don't Leave Mayonnaise Out In The Sun.

The simple man died the next day, when he walked into the sea, not realizing that he could not breathe water. As I said, he was a simple man.