And the angel said unto Bookstooge, “Take up thy staff, for with it ye shall smite the nations, shattering them until the reforging shall appear.”
And Bookstooge replied “My lord, what shall I say? For thou knowest I am but a man of few words.”
“I shall give thee a scroll, a scroll of doom. From it shalt thou read, day and night, excoriating the nations for not making thee king of the world” was the angel’s answer.
“Furthermore, I shall make thee strong as a tree. Deep roots feeding thee, body hard as steel, impervious to all their outrageous slings and arrows. Fortune wilt be thine!”
“And this shall be the sign twixt me and thee. I will turn this maple tree purple, for such a thing has never been seen in the land before, nor shall it be seen again. Thus I have spoken, thus it shall be!” And the angel vanished without a trace.
The Prophet Bookstooge took up his Staff of Prophecy, and from that day onward, even unto the everlasting future, he swatted all the little boys and girls who ever dared to set foot on his lawn. And peace reigned across the land.
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