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Of course, you could go to Poker Night

To: poker-night
From: electroblake
Subject: Of course, you could go to Poker Night
Date: Thu, 1 Jun 2006 19:41:56 -0400

It was a dark and stormy night.  Prince Rupert of the Tomatoes knew
there was trouble afoot.  But what?  Were the evil Celery People to
blame for the foul weather?  Prince Rupert had his suspicions, but
none of his highly trained, well equipped tomato spies had ever
returned from their assignments to infiltrate the banks of the celery
river.  The waters were rising, the storms had not let up in over
four days and the neighborhoods in the less elevated portions of the
Tomato Kingdom had been evacuated.

This would not stand.  Prince Rupert would not sit and let the vile
Celery people vex his people so!  He would launch an attack on their
muddy shores and take them by surprise in the middle of the night.
His forces would reign victorious and even if the Celery people were
not to blame for the troubling weather it would be easy enough to
make it look like they were.  So he schemed.

Prince Rupert came up with better plans when he had a bit of wine to
get his creative juices going.  He called for his chamber girl, a
green little tomato still very firm and just starting to redden, down
into the royal cellar to fetch him a bottle.  Make that two.  This
might have to be a very creative plan indeed, and why not invite the
young girl to join him for the first drink or two.

That morning Rupert found himself naked, the chamber girl naked
except for a crust of mustard covering her belly, and quite dead:
impaled on a fire poker with a look of terrified ecstasy on her
face.  Damn it, he thought, mustn’t get so excited while making his
plans.  Oh yes, the plan, how did that turn out, he wondered, not
being able to remember much about how the night had ended (and rather
regretting this fact as he looked upon the supple body of the
disfigured girl dripping syrupy clear tomato sauce onto his chamber
floor.  Well, what to do about this mess?  Would be a shame to let
the corpse go to waste.  He made a quick call to his staff of
culinary staff end enjoyed fried green tomatoes with bloody marys for
brunch and ruminated over his hangover what to do about the damn
floods.  Just as Prince Rupert was thinking of the most vile,
insulting name to call the Celery People in a public address he
squinted as his gaze fell upon the miserly grey skies and a shaft of
sunlight poked its way through!  To his astonishment, the grey skies
parted and the cobalt blue of refracted sunlight blinded him in his
hung over stupor, and as the alien space ship descended upon the
banks of the Celery river to the East Prince Rupert realized that
perhaps he’d been wrong all along about the Celerys, and that perhaps
they had both been had by an even greater foe.  He watched the space
ship shoot its particle beam weapons down upon the Celery shores and
obliterate the tall office buildings and suburban shopping centers
that made the nation of Celery a popular tourist spot for soccer moms
and accountants, turning them to a vaporous smoke that advanced
threateningly upon the freshly blued sky.

Prince Rupert called for his two stand by chamber girls and had them
sent to his secret underground fortress which he’d been working on
for years in case of just such an event.  He ordered his court
attendants to transfer the contents of the royal wine cellar into the
underground fortress (which was easy, since the one was located
directly beneath the other) and went to gather a few sets of his
favourite pajamas.  The world might end, but it would do it without
Prince Rupert of Tomato Land.

And thus the world was destroyed by terrible deadly aliens and Prince
Rupert sired many children with his two chamber girls and they ate up
all the young children when they reached one month of age as that was
the age all three of them agreed the young tomatoes best complimented
the flavours of the vast stores of wines they drank every morning,
day, and night.  On his death bead, his two lovely companions by his
side, Rupert decided it had been a good life.  His only regret:  that
he had never gone to

Poker Night!
XX XXXXXXXXX XX. #X in crusty Somerville, MA!
“first hand at nine”
bring gin!

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