Sunday Go To Meating

Meat Dept. Worker: Hi. May I help you?

Customer: Yes. Do you have any Yak Nipple filets?

Meat Dept. Worker: Sorry. We are fresh out. There has been a run on nipple meat this week.

Customer: Yes. I understand. I am sure it is because of the holiday.

Meat Dept. Worker: Which holiday?

Customer: Why, the Festival of St. Mortimer the Meek.

Meat Dept. Worker: St. Mortimer the Meek? I’ve never heard of him.

Customer: Oh, he’s a very important Saint in the OLPID Church.

Meat Dept. Worker: OLPID Church? – I’ve never heard of that either.

Customer: It is the church of Our Lady of Perpetual Intestinal Discomfort.

Meat Dept. Worker: You’re kidding, right?

Customer: Not at all. I can’t believe you haven’t heard about this church. Would you like me to tell you a little about it?

Meat Dept. Worker: Sure, if it won’t take too long. I’ve got some goat intestines curing in the back.

Customer: No problem. I’ll make it quick. You see, way back in the 4th century BC there was a tribe of nomadic bedouins known as the Schliebs. They roamed the Sinai desert searching for a place to call home. They were evicted from their original land because they partied too much and got crepe paper and wine stains on everything. The Schliebs were led by their very large queen, Myrna the Obese. One weekend, during one of their particularly rowdy parties, Queen Myrna had a little to much falafel, and began to have severe abdominal pains and explosive diarrhea. She put a call out to all of her followers that if anyone could find a cure for her affliction, that person would become the second in command of her kingdom, and would also never have to wait for a seat at the Sinai Village Inn.

There was a particularly bright apothecary in the land, whose name was Mortimer. His genius at mixing up potions and elixirs was known by everyone. The only problem was that Mortimer was very shy. I mean not just shy, very shy. He was known to wet himself whenever he was spoken to, and if a beautiful woman happened to acknowledge him, he would fart, throw up, and his left arm would twitch in an annoying fashion. So usually, he would just have his helper, Cliff, deal directly with the customers.

Cliff heard of the Queen’s dilemma, and he knew that Mortimer could help.
When Cliff brought the situation to Mortimer’s attention, Mortimer knew just what it would take to get the Queen back on her feet. You see, many years before, Mortimer’s own mother had suffered this very same affliction when she too had consumed an excessive amount of falafel while out on a date with a sandal salesman named Vinny. After much experimentation, Mortimer was able to come up with a treatment for his mom – his cure was yak nipple meat sauteed in butter with a little garlic. The thing is, there were only two female yaks in the entire village. The oldest was now nipple-less, as hers were the nipples used to cure Mortimer’s mom. Mortimer knew the recipe that would help the Queen, but he only had once chance at getting it right. There were only two yak nipples left in all the land, on that remaining female yak.

With no time to spare, Mortimer carefully removed the yak’s nipples and began his work. Within about 15 minutes or so, the concoction was ready, and he brought it himself to Queen Myrna. When the Queen bid Mortimer to come forward with his cure, he peed a little in his shyness. He had never seen the Queen at this close a distance. He had never seen a human being this large. He wondered if the two yak nipples would be enough of a dose.

He gave the dish to Queen Myrna and she felt much better immediately after eating it. However, five minutes later, the pain came back and she was furious. She demanded more of the dish. Mortimer had no idea what to do. There were no more yak nipples in the land. He knew what the punishment would be if he failed his Queen. He would be banished to the Brown Forest in Enema Land, never to be seen again.

As Mortimer walked by the younger female yak who had recently given her nipples in service to the Queen, he couldn’t believe his eyes. The yak had grown perfect new nipples where the previous ones had been. There was no sign of the previous nipple removal procedure. It was like it had never happened.

Immediately, Mortimer got to work, removing the nipples and sauteing another batch of the healing dish. And so it went for 26 years. It was known as the Miracle of the Nipples. That yak provided fresh nipples up until the fateful day when Queen Myrna spontaneously combusted at the Sinai Swap Meet.

Mortimer was named Prime Minister and canonized as a Saint, and Myrna became known as Our Lady of Perpetual Intestinal Discomfort. The church was formed on the day of her combustion, and every year OLPIDs celebrate the Festival of St. Mortimer the Meek by sauteing yak nipples and peeing in their pants.

Meat Dept. Worker: I see. We’ll I am sorry, but we are still fresh out of yak nipples. I feel bad because I know how important this festival must be to you. Is there anything else that could be used as a substitution for the yak nipples?

Customer: You got any salami?

Meat Dept. Worker: Yep. $4.99 a pound.

Customer: I’ll take 2 pounds. We’ll call it good. I’m not really that devout anyway.

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