Short Story

There was a time in Ireland, not so long ago, when midgets roamed the lands, setting up camp outside of small towns. The townspeople thrived on the nomadic dwarf industry in those days, manufacturing goods particularly suited to the midget consumer.

In fact, it was extremely difficult for these towns' "normal" sized people to function comfortably, as local goods and venues were too small.

One cool, rainy day in March, the O'Dometer little people crowded into a pub with dirt floors and wooden kegs for walls.

Stuck indoors all day with nothing to do but drink the walls, one lady dwarf got a little "free" and started doing the funky chicken dance. This woman was quite unattractive, and the midgets hated "the chicken." They were SO mad!

You know the rest. The piles of stools. The pole...

Anyway, the lives of the people in that angry mob were cut short because of their brutality, and all the midget bars in Ireland were shut down. But if you're ever in Ireland, ask them about the midgets and their bloody stools. They'll understand.