This tale by Terry Morrison was published on the groaners listserv.

The annual Chefs’ Convention was the highlight of the year for the town of Canard Falls. Preparations for the big event began well in advance and nearly every one of ‘the Falls’ 9,326 inhabitants had a hand in it, even the children.

When the big day arrived, as it invariably did each year, it signalled the beginning of three full days of fun frivolity and feasting. People ate so much of the magnificent fare that it would have seemed to an outsider that appetites had been saved for just this occasion.

Chefs came from all over the country to compete in the many bake-offs, dinner duels and brunch brawls. To the townspeople went the spoils of this culinary battleground.

As with any high level competition, the accumulated stress and tension made it necessary for the combatants to let off a little steam when the opportunity presented itself.

This was where the ladies of The Baker’s Dozen came in. On the night before the great influx, the house of ill repute on the outskirts of town received a thorough going-over, as did the ladies themselves. All was shiny and clean as the carloads of chefs pulled in and out, one after the other. It went on all weekend

But this year, things got a little out of hand.

For the first time in living memory a lot of younger chefs were attending the convention. One night, after the heat of competition had died down, the young men descended on the Baker’s Dozen like a pack of jackals, ready to tackle even the most unappetizing of the lot. There must have been a hundred or more, all liquored up and standing in line for their crack at one of the thirteen overworked ladies.

Well, to make a long story short, the tension just boiled over and in their youthful exuberance, they wrecked the place. The only things left standing were three of the women.

Which only goes to show, ”Too Many Cooks Spoil the Brothel.”