one day, Gertrude took a sip of her performance-enhancing drink that absolutely everyone in the sport drinks (aka 'the lance armstrong rationale'), then turned to Akebono, and said "we should have a child, for who shall look after our crippled bodies when we turn 40 and are too old to compete in our respective sports?" Akebono nodded his approval - he'd always wanted to have a son to raise in the ways of sumo.
and so they had a son, Hans. Hans was a fine boy, but he was a normal boy. this disappointed his parents, both of whom wanted a sports star like they were, to carry on the family sporting line. but as time went on, it was obvious Hans was only interested in one thing: pretzels.
he made pretzels from dawn to dusk, until even his fingers were in knots. eventually, he had to go out to the not-so-nearby towns selling his pretzels, as the house had become full of them; his parents just couldn't eat them fast enough, and, living deep in the woods, they had no neighbours.
one day, when Hans had gone to the very-far-away-village to sell his pretzels, Gertrude and Akebono had visitors.
Randy and Roland Stermudge were very nice, very mild-mannered wood-floor salesmen, as long as people bought the appropriate amount of wood flooring. on a routine sales trip, Randy spotted the Bodenturnen's cottage from the road, and decided that, although it appeared that the cottage was made entirely of wood, possibly, a potential client lived inside.
Randy knocked on the door. Gertrude and Akebono both answered. Randy and Roland introduced themselves, and explained that they were the best providers of wood flooring this side of the Black Forest. Akebono just shook his head. Gertrude wasn't interested either. "We just bought wood flooring last month. We couldn't possibly have it redone yet. But would you like a pretzel?"
well, Randy and Roland hated failure, and they hated pretzels. so when Gertrude closed the door, they retrieved their axes from the truck, and began chopping the nearest tree. it wasn't long before the huge tree fell on the Bodenturnen's lovely cottage.
screams could be heard from inside, but this didn't stop Randy and Roland "shoulda bought our wood flooring!" they shouted as they moved to the next tree and started chopping. again, the next tree fell on the cottage, crushing everything inside it: the extra pretzels, the recently installed wood flooring, the home-gym, and both the Bodenturnens. as they drove away, Randy and Roland laughed maniacally; such is the style of psychotic wood-floor salesmen.
when Hans returned, he saw the demolished cottage and fell to his knees sobbing. when he finished, he looked around and spotted the Stermudge twins' business card on the ground. he felt his blood boil. he stormed around to the back of the cottage, where his special pretzel-baking kitchen stood unspoiled by the tree-felling, and baked up a batch of his best pretzels - with poison - and grabbed his best gun (for what great pretzel-maker doesn't have a gun?).
Hans vowed to avenge his parents death-by-wood-flooring-salesmen in the most gruesome way possible - by poisoning *and* shooting them.
so if you see Hans, be sure not to buy his pretzels, particularly if you are in the wood-flooring industry. it could be your last snack.
NB
people who have been killed by wood flooring (either directly or indirectly. mostly indirectly) :
mother theresa
john wayne
elvis (although this was most likely in conjunction with something else)
JFK (it's a known fact that the shooter was on a wooden floor)
FDR (the fumes from wood flooring almost certainly caused his polio)
sonny bono (the tree he ran into would have *become* wood flooring)
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