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WolfLarsen
02-21-2012, 09:07 PM
A Kid Learns about Banks
a short story by Wolf Larsen

Once upon a time a kid named Johnny helped his father around the house painting walls and other things like that. Johnny learned some useful things, and even better yet his father gave him a little money for his work!

His father asked Johnny, "What are you going to do with all that money?"
Johnny responded, "I don't know."
His father said, "Why don't you have fun with some of the money, and put the rest of it in a savings account at the bank?"

Johnny thought about it a moment. Having fun sounded good! And putting the rest of it in the bank sounded good too! Putting money in the bank seemed really neat, like something all grown up and whatnot.

So the kid and his father went to the bank. They sat down at a desk together with a man in a suit & tie. There were a bunch of forms. His father had to sign some papers. The little kid had to sign some papers too. And then the little kid handed over his money to the man in the suit & tie.

The kid then forgot about the money in the bank for a while. He was busy going to school, studying, playing baseball, etc.

Then one day a friend got a new bicycle for his birthday.
"What are you going to do with the old bicycle?" asked Johnny.
The other kid didn't know.
Johnny said, "Why don't you sell it to me? I've got money in the bank!"
And both kids thought this was a great idea.

So Johnny went to the bank to withdraw some of his money to buy the bicycle. At the bank the teller told him there was no more money in his savings account, and in fact the teller informed Johnny that he owed the bank money!

"But how could that be?" asked Johnny. "I deposited my money and I never took anything out! In fact, I thought I was supposed to get interest!"
The lady informed Johnny about something called bank fees. And that since he had less than $10,000 in his savings account the bank automatically deducted fees every month.
Johnny was confused as the bank teller explained to Johnny that he owed the bank $38.25.

Copyright 2012 by Wolf Larsen

Darcy88
02-21-2012, 10:41 PM
Damnit Wolf. I like you and your politics but I cannot for the life of me bring myself to like your writing. There is really nothing here. The vapid badly written opening sentences set the stage for disappointment.


Once upon a time a kid named Johnny helped his father around the house painting walls and other things like that. Johnny learned some useful things, and even better yet his father gave him a little money for his work!

The funny thing is I had the exact same experience with a bank when I was a kid.

Mutatis-Mutandis
02-21-2012, 11:20 PM
Is this a part of your presidential campaign, Wolf?

YesNo
02-21-2012, 11:42 PM
An interesting commentary on saving. I guess the lesson to learn is to read the fine print and don't trust that one's parents have done so.

Delta40
02-22-2012, 01:37 AM
I'd ask my dad for the money I lost back and slap him for the bad advice!

WolfLarsen
02-23-2012, 01:32 PM
Igor Stravinsky Learns about West Side Street Gangs
a short story by Wolf Larsen

(Parts of the story have been censored in order to conform to forum rules.)

Once upon a fwoo!op a kid named Igor Stravinsky helped Bonaparte Napoleon around the house painting walls and other things like that. Igor learned some zap!-oops!-piiiing! kind-of-things, and even better yet Napoleon Bonaparte gave him some Jackson Pollock for his work!

Napoleon Bonaparte asked Igor Stravinsky, "What are you going to do with all the falling streets & zigzagging skies & creeping walls?"

Igor responded, "I don't know, let's go ask Mohammed Ali for some champagne!"

So Napoleon Bonaparte and Igor Stravinsky went to talk to Mohammed Ali. Mohammed Ali said, "Why don't you have giant mountains with some of the transvestites, and put the rest of it in little crawling thoughts that slither everywhere?"

Igor Stravinsky thought about it a moment. Having collisions with unsound dreams sounded good! And sending the rest of it to the other part of the universe sounded very strawberry too! Putting transvestites in the bank seemed really Armageddon-like, like something all Shakespeare & fries & a Coke and whatnot.

So Igor Stravinsky & Napoleon Bonaparte & Mohammed Ali went to the bank. They sat down at a desk together with some giraffes. There were a bunch of THIS PHRASE CENSORED each other. Some of the giraffes grew sideways. Igor Stravinsky had to pretend he was a giraffe himself. And then someone began losing their body organs. They chased after their body organs as their body organs ran down the street!

Igor Stravinsky then forgot about the transvestites he had deposited in the bank for a while. He was busy going to houses of CENSORED, making CENSORED to inanimate objects, and playing baseball with space aliens.

Then one day Bartok got a new bicycle for his birthday.
"What are you going to do with the old bicycle?" asked Igor Stravinsky.
The other composer didn't know.
Igor Stravinsky said, "Why don't you sell it to me? I've got some used toilet paper in the bank!"

And both Bartok & Igor Stravinsky thought this was a great idea!

So Igor went to the bank to withdraw some transvestites to buy the universe. At the bank the giant machine as big as 10,000 Earth skies piled on top of each other told him there was no more transvestites in his savings account, and in fact the 10,000 Earth skies machines informed Igor that he owed the bank a CENSORED sample!

"But how many mornings are splattered all over the walls?" asked Igor. "I deposited my transvestites and I never took anything out! In fact, I thought I was supposed to get a giant transvestite for my birthday! Where is she or he or he/she?"

The 10,000 machines skies informed Igor about something called marshmallow-zeee-zeeee-kalaping-ttttfffffffffffffffffss. And that since he had less than 900 transvestites in his savings account the bank automatically deducted half-a-dozen virgins every million years.

Igor Stravinsky was confused as the bank teller explained to Igor that he owed the bank 380,098,925 space aliens.

Copyright 2012 by Wolf Larsen