I remember when I was in the fith grade, long time ago, my teacher, Ms.Moore, gave us a interesting class assignment:
We were to get out parents to tell us a story with a moral at the end.
The next day all my classmates told their stories, which were all regular stories like spilling milk and pennies saved, etc. I kept quite hoping Ms. Moore wouldn't call on or notice me. Drats - no luck.
She called out, "Jim, do you have a story to share?'
"Yes ma'am", I replied. "My daddy told me about my Aunt Karen. She was a pilot during the Korean war and her plane got hit. She had to bail out over enemy territory, and all she had was a flask of whiskey, a pistol, and a survial knife."
"So please tell us more about what happened," Ms. Moore said to me.
"She drank the whiskey on the way down so the bottle wouldn't break, and then her parachute landed her right in the middle of 20 North Korean troops. She shot 15 of them with her pistol, until she ran out of bullets, killed four more with the knife, til the blade broke, and then she killed the last North Korean with her bare hands."
"Good Heavens," Ms. Moore exclaimed to me, sounding horrified. "What did your daddy tell you was the moral of the story?"
"Stay the hell away from Aunt Karen when she's been drinking!"
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