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It was an ordinary spring day when Franz Kafka awoke. Much to his consternation he discovered that during the night he had been transformed into a rather large and fairly unattractive crustacean. A lobster in fact. “Well, this is quite an inconvenience,” he thought to himself as he waved his massive pincers before his eyestalks, “how will I button my shirt?”
He could not help but to feel shame at the embarrassment this would undoubtedly cause his family. He particularly felt grief for his sister, who, due to this most unfortunate happenstance, would now only be able to marry a lowly office clark instead of a barrister or perhaps even a fishmonger.
“Now where are we going to get a pot big enough in which to boil him,” he mused quietly to himself.
Meanwhile, Franz’s father slowly bled to death.
This tale of woe certainly took some odd twists and turns. It was especially funny when the father says, "Quickly, boil some butter, a lot of it!" Yep, that'll resolve the situation. Yumm! This was odd, but I enjoyed it.
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