Tarzan's Tripes Forever, and Other Feghoots

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Halloween Groaner III

Category: P.U.N.Y. listserv, Puns, Rated G, Shaggy Puppy

This witch’s tale is by Bob Dvorak.

As the New Year approached, business was roaring. Every customer wanted some sort of potion to improve his life, or some sort of poison to ruin another’s.

Merelda was a top-flight witch. Her poisons and potions were known to be at least fourteen times better than any others in the kingdom. No one save she knew why, and it was her closely guarded secret. Had they followed her around, they would have discovered it: she only used fresh Eye of Newt, and that in triple the normal proportion. None of the canned stuff, or imported with preservatives.

But the Newts knew ‘t, you see. They recognized that their numbers were dwindling by the year. And, vowing to do something about it, King Canewt hired My Newt, a detective. Now this fellow was clever, and built himself a newt-hunter-blind down by the pond where the newts hung out. And camped there. And waited. And waited.

And, lo, early Saturday morning, with the fog still upon the meadow, Merelda came down to the pond’s edge. With a great net and a great swoop, she scooped up several dozen newts at once. She dropped them in a box, scooped several more times, and went back up the hill. It was then, with a sigh of relief, that My Newt exited his hidey hole and looked up the hill after her. “There,” he said, “but for the grace of God, go eyes.”

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