Four writers knelt before the High Editor in Edinburgh Castle’s Great Hall.
“Mighty Editor,” they intoned. “We’ve travelled thousands of miles from Canada to beg forgiveness for our sins. We forgot our commas. We are not worthy.”
“True,” said the High Editor.
“Please forgive us. We have brought a peace offering.”
Before them, trussed-up, lay a terrified giant haggis, its two left legs shorter than its right ones.
“Fools!” announced the Editor. “Here in Scotland, we drive on the left. A Scottish haggis needs short right legs.”
“Oh, no, High Editor, sorry…”
“Guards, take these writers away and delete them!”
“Mighty Editor,” they intoned. “We’ve travelled thousands of miles from Canada to beg forgiveness for our sins. We forgot our commas. We are not worthy.”
“True,” said the High Editor.
“Please forgive us. We have brought a peace offering.”
Before them, trussed-up, lay a terrified giant haggis, its two left legs shorter than its right ones.
“Fools!” announced the Editor. “Here in Scotland, we drive on the left. A Scottish haggis needs short right legs.”
“Oh, no, High Editor, sorry…”
“Guards, take these writers away and delete them!”
