Once upon a time, there was a mighty Chief. He was the most respected man his tribe had ever known. He had battled enemies from all over the known world and beaten them all. But the Chief also had a dark secret: He could not fart.
Every night, all the warriors would sit around the dinner table telling stories, drinking, eating, and then farting and laughing out loudly. But when the farting began, the Chief was always silent.
One day, he decided he had had enough. The Chief sent his most trusted messenger to a witchdoctor to find a cure. The faithful messenger traveled over rugged mountains, across treacherous swampland, and through thick forests. Finally, a week later, he arrived at the witchdoctor’s house. He banged on the door and it opened.
“BIG CHIEF, NO FART.” Said the ragged messenger.
“Hmmm… I have something here for you.” Replied the witchdoctor. “Here are seven pills. Give him one of these a day for a week, and he will soon be able to fart like a normal man.” The messenger traveled back home and gave the pills to the anxiously waiting chief, who took them as instructed. Nothing happened. Again the messenger traveled to the witchdoctor and banged on the door.
“BIG CHIEF, NO FART!” bellowed the messenger
“Ok, calm down” replied the witchdoctor. “We’ll just double the dosage. Here are fourteen pills. Give him two of these every day for a week, and it’s sure to do the trick.”
Again, two weeks later, there was a knock on the door. This time the messenger had brought several warriors with him, a clear sign that failure would no longer be accepted.
“BIG CHIEF, NO FART!” screamed the messenger
“OK! Here is the entire bottle. Give these to the chief. Tell him to eat these until he cannot even swallow them anymore! With a dosage like this, I guarantee you results!” said the panicked withdoctor, now afraid for his life. Satisfied, the messenger and his warriors left for home. The witchdoctor breathed a sigh of relief as the messenger and his warriors headed away.
But, amazingly, two weeks later, the witchdoctor heard a furious pounding on his door. Looking through the peephole, he saw the messenger, dressed in war gear, joined by the entire army: dressed in war paint and waving their torches and weapons in the air. Knowing it was all over, the witchdoctor slowly opened the door.
“I’m telling you!! he stammered. Those pills work! I don’t know what could possibly have happened! I have used them many times before!”
The messenger just stands there, so furious that he is unable to speak.
“Please,” says the witchdoctor, “tell me what happened.”
Finally the messenger speaks up, gathering himself and lifting up his spear, his eyes red with rage:
“BIG FART, NO CHIEF” growls the messenger.
