Not So Wise

After they left Bethlehem, the Three Wise Men returned back to their homelands and got chewed out by their clans for giving their wares away to some strange family in a barn.
The myrrh and the frankincense weren’t much in demand at the time, so those guys got off easy with whippings. But the guy with the gold really blew it, and he was sold into slavery for his temporary bout of madness.
Still, he’d tell tales of following the star, giving gold to The Newborn King Of The Jews.
So they cut out his tongue to shut him up.

Tinsel

Tinsel for decoration started off as shredded silver strands, but silver tarnishes quickly. And these days, it’s rather expensive.
So, people switched to copper, but wartime restrictions meant that people needed to use another metal.
That’s around when aluminum became cheap and easy to use, but aluminized paper is a fire hazard, and the lights on trees would heat up the paper and burn houses down.
Lead is nice and shiny. And toxic. It causes brain damage. But if your kid sucks on Christmas tree decorations and thinks some fat dude’s bringing presents, really, how much stupider can they get?

Merv

Unlike the rest of the Royals, The Duke of Mervin’s Gate was a down-to-earth kinda guy.
Some called him Duke, others called him Merv. He was cool with either.
His family wasn’t.
So, he bummed around in the kitchen, watching chefs prepare meals and feasts.
He asked if he could help, and after a few weeks of learning, he had his own toque and knives.
Pretty soon, all the meals were prepared by him. And they were delicious.
And laced with a slow-acting poison.
Oh, the tragedy.
Some called him King, others called him Merv. He was cool with either.

Anchor

Back when gaslamps lit the streets of New Orleans, sailors would go to sea and their loves would wait for their return.
Most came back to port on schedule, or close to it.
Others were delayed by storms, pirates… so many dangers.
When a ship was due, their loves came to the docks and met them as they arrived, walking down the gangplank, that moment.
Or, if they didn’t arrive, waiting.
Late one day… two… a week… a month.
Sometimes, the harbormaster wrote that worst of all fates: “LOST.”
And their hearts would sink, down… sink below the waves forever.

Dynasty

In the center of the city stands The Tower Of Kings.
King Albert The First was placed in a small tomb in the city square.
His son, King Albert The Second, asked that his tomb be built on top of his father’s.
As did his own son.
Over the centuries, each successive King Albert insisted his tomb be built on top of the stack, each tomb rendering the structure more unstable and necessitating reinforcement and buttressing of The Tower.
When The Tower falls, so will The Dynasty Of Albert.
Good riddance. Because they’re all a bunch of crazy tomb-stacking assholes.

Ukrid The Wise

What makes Ukrid The Wise so wise?
He surrounds himself with many wise men, of course.
Whenever he needed to make a decision, he asked the wiser men surrounding him, and they shared their wisdom with him.
Then, in spite of the sage advice, he would make a decision so outrageous, it would annoy the hell out of the people affected by it.
They’d call for his death, and a few brave souls would come after Ukrid with axes and arrows.
Then, Ukrid would cower behind his circle of wise men, letting them take the blows until his guards arrived.

Itchy Trigger Finger

Stone Ridge needed a doctor, so I hopped on the first train out.
When I arrived, sheriff welcomed me, pointed out some sights, and warned me about Bobcat Murphy: “He’s got an itchy trigger finger.”
Oh. Good.
A client.
I grabbed my bag and headed to the Murphy Ranch.
Bobcat put a gun to my head and said “What do you want, stranger?”
“Doctor,” I said. “Doctor Roberts, and I have a cream for your itch.”
Bobcat sighed. “Great,” he said. He put down the gun and dropped his pants.
Curing his jock itch cured the itchy trigger finger, too.

The Lists

When it comes to paperwork, we have things down to a science here at the prison.
(We certainly get enough practice at it these days. Stupid food riots and rebellion!)
Every morning, the king sends down a list of executions.
Then, in the evening, he sends down a list of pardons.
However, after releasing a bunch of people last night, we got an identical list of names this morning.
“Wasn’t that the list from last night?” I asked.
The messenger checks.
“Uh oh,” he says. “I’d better fix this.”
He adds my name.
“We’ll just say it was your fault!”

War Torn

Abraham Lincoln told his family of a strange nightmare, waking up and hearing sobbing from invisible mourners, seeing a raised platform with a shrouded corpse on it.
“Who is dead in the White House?” he asked.
“The President,” said a guard. “He was killed by an assassin.”
Abe said there was a loud burst of grief that woke him up, but the truth was, he climbed into the coffin with his own corpse and had mad passionate sex with it.
Abe never got the chance to explore his latent homosexual necrophiliac tendencies.
Well, that, and restore the war-torn nation, either.

The Dragon’s Tail

Isaac sat beneath an apple tree and watched a mob of farmers charge up the hill, pitchforks waving, heading to the dragon’s cave.
He closed his eyes and waited for the roar to come.
RRRRROOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRR!
A pack of screaming singed farmers carrying scorched pitchforks ran down the hill, half-heartedly pursued by a massive scaly green lizard with wings.
Until it stopped, walked up to Isaac, and grumbled “What’s up with those clowns?”
Isaac shrugged. “I can calculate the motions of heavenly bodies, but not the madness of men.”
The dragon sighed, grumbled and walked away, his tail jostling the tree.