The Illinois

by John Mason and Jonathan Lowe

I thought this spoof particularly appropriate, considering the current circumstances.--John Mason

Far over the Minty Mountains cold,

To dungeons deep and caverns old,

We must insist that in this mist

The mighty cake we will behold.

For in the mist our stronhold stands

Which holds this cake in mighty hands,

The Illinois, our pride and joy,

The finest cake among the lands.

Far over the Minty Mountains cold,

To dungeons deep and caverns old,

We must insist that in this mist

The mighty cake we will behold.

The cookie monster rose from sleep

And came upon us from the deep.

He drove us out, and then found out

Our cake was in the baker's keep.

He took from us the mighty cake

which took us many years to make.

In fire he threw the icing blue,

Then realized his big mistake.

That wonder-cake that once was sweet

Lost all its frosting to the heat,

And what was left was taste-bereft--

It was no longer fit to eat.

And so the monster, in great ire,

Just threw the cake into the fire,

And went to kill all those who will

Bake cake that he does not desire.

Far over the Minty Mountains cold,

To dungeons deep and caverns old,

We must confess that in this mess

There's little semblance to the old.

A Sorrowful Choice for a Wife

                                             By Eliza Brooks (edited by John Mason)

          In a silverware drawer in a house, there lived a family of spoons. The time soon came when the mother and father urged their youngest son to pick a wife. All of their other children were each well married to a knife or a fork.
          But as none of these suited his tastes, the son began to walk around the kitchen every night in search of a suitable wife. His parents were rather annoyed, for they believed that it was not proper for silverware to marry anyone but silverware.
          As he walked here and there, searching and searching for the perfect wife, his eyes suddenly fell on a young ripe banana. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
          The spoon walked up to her and said boldly, "You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, and if I cannot have you for my own, I will surely melt."
          "And I," she said with great joy, "have the exact same feelings!" For she had been watching him with longing all day.
          So, as she had no parents, and the spoon was old enough to make his own decisions, they were wed the next day.
          For two days, they enjoyed life and love together. And then on the third day, the banana was brought into the diningroom and never seen again.
          You may ask, "What is the moral, or even the point of such a story as this?" And the answer is: this is all my Imagination could muster on a cold, windy day.