A Robert Munsch-like story

Here's proof that listening to Robert Munsch causes one to start to talk just like him! This is (almost) a true story.

One day, Michelle sent Mark a contract. And Mark said, "I don't like this contract. It has big words and no money and there's a great big strawberry jam blob on it. I won't sign this contract. I won't I won't I won't."

So Michelle rewrote the contract and sent it back to him. When she sent it she said, "I took out all the big words and I added some more money and there was no strawberry jam within 30 kilometers when I printed it. Please sign the contract."

Mark said, "Oh boy! Oh boy! Oh boy!" But when he opened the contract, he wasn't happy at all. He said, "I don't like this contract. It has my address wrong and there's not enough money and there's little bits of fly poop all over the third page."

So Michelle rewrote the contract again. She fixed the address, she added more money and she took out all the little bits of fly poop one by one. It took her 17 days just to pick out fly poop. She put the contract into an hermetically sealed container, then put it into a super plastic bag from Sobey's (tied it at the top), and then she put it into a GREAT BIG IRON BOX -- it took 37 men just to lift the box onto the truck -- and they drove it to Montreal."

This time when Michelle sent the contract she said, "I fixed your address and I added more money and there's no way a fly could have survived to poop on any page. Please sign the contract."

Mark said, "Oh boy! Oh boy! Oh boy!" But when the truck arrived at Mark's house, Mark wasn't home. They couldn't deliver the contract -- and even if Mark had been home, they couldn't find 37 men to lift the box out of the truck, so the truck turned around, left Mark's neighbourhood, started driving all around Canada and was never seen again. Mark called Michelle and said, "I never got your contract. Please send it again."

And Michelle said, "This boy is DRIVING ME CRAZY!!! "

So Michelle printed 194 copies of the contract. She tied 38 copies to the leg of a homing pigeon and threw it up into the air. She put 69 copies into the wheel of a Greyhound bus headed east on the 401. She gave 86 copies to her grandma who said that she once knew a boy named Mark Goldman. And she sent the very last copy to Mark by email.

The next day, Mark opened up his email and said "Oh boy! Oh boy! Oh boy!" Mark's inbox was filling up quickly. Arriving just for him were 320 offers to enlarge his penis, 93 promises to give him a credit card and 22 viruses from friends. There was no email from Michelle. But at the very end of that long list of incoming mail, there was one tiny little message that said, "Did you go to Mitchell's Academy for the second grade?"

And Mark HAD gone to Mitchell's Academy for the second grade. So that was the only email message he opened. The message was from Michelle's grandma and inside the message was a copy of Michelle's contract. The message said, "Hello. If your name is Mark Goldman and you went to Mitchell's Academy for the second grade, then this is for you."

So Mark opened the contract. The address was right and the money was right and there was no strawberry jam or fly poop anywhere near the contract. So he signed it.

And that's the end of that story.

Originally written September 18, 2003

Robert Munsch once wrote a (short) story about me. Really! Click here to read it!

(c) Michelle Henderson
aka Empress of the Universe

www.empressgallery.com