The Tale of Krazy Klan

Krazy Klan created a country for itself. It fought and fought, built and paved, dug and dried, planted and harvested. It flourished and made the earth flourish. It beat its swords into plowshares and its plowshares back into swords. It killed the lion and skinned it, and flew the furry flag high above its home.

But Krazy Klan became so sophisticated it got caught up in its own lies. Its genius was such that it could stave off its enemy with one hand, and still beat itself senseless with the other. And Krazy Klan kept self-flagellating. It was high on the hill and the sun was out and the birds were chirping, and Krazy Klan took its own sword and started beating itself on the head like a Shi'ite in Ashura, bleeding and laughing. And so the enemies all around it awoke, and circled, and drew ever nearer.

Klan knew exactly what to do in these situations. It had learned its lesson in thousands of years of persecution.

It dressed itself in a pink tutu and began dancing a polka. It did somersaults and juggled bottles in the air with its feet. As it held up a mirror, it began screaming at itself in a high pitched, nasal voice: "why must you walk so hunched up, what are you, Quasimodo?"... "why walk so erect, are you a knight in armor all of a sudden?"... "eat with your mouth closed!"... "chew your food before you swallow, you'll choke!"... "don't talk so much!"... "why are you so quiet, did somebody die?"...

Meanwhile, a worried world looked on.

(to be continued?)