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The Camel and the Toadstool

There once was a camel, who walked for forty days in the desert, which was good, because camels are supposed to do that sort of thing, apparently, according to benchmarks. And half-way through it's journey, across the desert (as it was crossing, and not just in, as you may have been led to believe from that previous sentence), it met a toadstool, which isn't really much of a meeting, as toadstools generally just sit there, not moving, while most other things move considerably faster than themselves, and when the things that are not the toadstool come to a stop, having noticed the toadstool, the toadstool generally doesn't do anything terribly different than it had been doing the past so many months or so before the something else stopped.
Quite boring, in fact. In this case, it was the camel that stopped alongside the toadstool.
Just as the camel was about to ask the toadstool how it was it survived out here in the desert without any water, the toadstool leapt up and bit the camel on the ankle, scaring the camel into running off across the desert.
"I hate being asked that question," said the toadstool, to no one in particular.

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