Here's the story:
The Fat Eagle
An eagle liked to eat. He ate cake and ham and corn. He ate and ate, and he got fatter and fatter. He said, "I am so fat that I can not fly." He sat in a tree and the other eagles made fun of him. They said, "Look at that fat, fat eagle. Ho, ho."
The fat, fat eagle was sitting in a tree when a tiger came hunting for eagles. The tiger went after a little eagle that was sitting under the tree. The other eagles yelled, but the little eagle did not hear them.
The fat, fat eagle looked down and said, "I must save the little eagle." So he jumped from the tree. He came down like a fat rock on the tiger. And the tiger ran far away.
Now the other eagles do not make fun of the fat, fat eagle. They give him cake and ham and corn.
This is the end.
Is that not ridiculous? I think the part that got me most was how the author felt the need to consistently introduce the eagle as the "fat, fat" eagle. Clearly one "fat" was not sufficient. And what is the life lesson this story is teaching, anyway? All I got was it's ok to be fat as long as you use your fat for good.
I'm sorry if it's creepy that I read this right after you posted. I try not to stalk you, but sometimes I can't help myself. Your posts just bring me such great joy. "I must save the little eagle." Golden. I guess you can't go wrong with chubby cake-eating eagles.
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