Christmas With Fisherman In A Small Village

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In the hustle and bustle of the city, Fisherman was a genuine urban crime fighter. Originally, he was a criminal, but his great dislike for losing changed his career path. His moniker was purposefully misleading. FACT: Bruce Dobbs was a fisherman, not professionally, but enough to call it more than a hobby. FACT: Dobbs was a persistent scrapper; he will, without hesitation, bite your nose off if you had a suspicious sneeze. FACT: He confounded his enemies by not using gimmicks or powers related to fish in any way, although his attire was all about fishing. He used guns. Every once in awhile, he would toss in a fish pun in his repertoire of “witty banter”. Things like “I do it for the halibut”, “Barricuda? You brought her?!”, and “Sorry for being so shellfish, here, have some of my fist, followed by a stream of bullets.” Later, he would give up the “witty banter”. So much of it got lost under the harsh repetitive rat-a-tat of his machine gun fire.


It was Christmas in a small village in Ethiopia. Jack Dobbs awoke to the bright sun and the sound of villagers booing. At first he wasn’t sure if they were actually booing or merely chanting his name, Bruce. He was feeling pretty damn smug. He had just taught the near-starving natives how to fish. He greeted the village people with a wave. They, in turn, pelted him with empty beer cans and fishbones. Dobbs said, “Look, I can explain…”

The impatient villagers could care less, as they picked up Dobbs and his belongings and threw them all into the river. As he floundered in the water, he cursed, “Merry Christmas, you fucking ingrates. I will come back here with Dr. Mind Eraser and wipe your brains of everything I ever taught you!”

MORAL: Modern man assumes life lessons. They are allergic to actually attaining knowledge through any form of labor. They prefer the latest gaming systems and have adopted the what have you done for me lately attitude.

Allergic

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