Once there was this cattle rancher who, after three years, finally found a buyer for his oldest bull Caesar. This new owner happened to be the rancher’s closest neighbor, who lived on the other side of the valley accross the river.

“Men,” the rancher said to his cowhands, “It’s time to say our good-byes to this bull, and take him across the river”. So the men roped Caesar, and walked him down to the river.

They were about to put him on the boat to take him across, when the rancher’s youngest nephew who helped to raise Caesar, said with a tear in his eye, “Can we take him out for one last munch in his favorite meadow?”

The other hands said, “Sure”, and led him just off the riverbank for a snack. Well, with the day as nice as it was, all of the hands took a quick nap. Four hours later, the rancher saw that the bull was still on his property and ran down into the valley.

He shouted and cursed at the men to wake them up. Once everyone was standing, he said that the beast should have been across the river long ago. “In fact, we’ve come to ferry Caesar, not to graze him!”

This variant was posted by David A. Wallace on alt.callahans.

‘Twas the fourteenth of March and Brutus and the boys were discussing their planned political statement for the following day. Cassius the Anorexic wanted to use Greek fire, which had been recently re-invented. Brutus, however, favored the traditional Roman short-sword as the weapon of choice.

He stood and addressed his co-conspirators, “Friends, Romans and Countrymen, Lend me your ears. I come to parry Caesar, not to braise him!”