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| Once upon a time, in a land not too far
away, there lived a man named Harold. Harold was not your ordinary man; he had an extraordinary talent for breaking things. It was as if his very presence defied the laws of physics. Doors creaked louder when he approached, windows cracked when he glanced at them, and don't even get started on furniture...especially chairs. One bright and sunny afternoon, Harold decided to take a stroll through the woods. He’d heard tales of a house deep within the forest, where three magical chairs awaited the one who could sit in them without causing havoc. Naturally, this challenge excited Harold, whose motto was "If it ain't broken, I haven't sat on it yet." After a comically long and bumbling journey where Harold managed to trip over roots that weren’t there and accidentally scare off a deer by sneezing, he finally stumbled upon the house. The door was left ajar, which, of course, fell off its hinges the moment Harold touched it. Inside, the house was cozy and inviting, with the aroma of fresh pancakes wafting through the air. But Harold wasn’t interested in pancakes; his eyes were locked on the three chairs in the middle of the room. Each chair was unique: one was tiny, one was average-sized, and one was enormous. Harold rubbed his hands together, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Time to test these chairs!" he declared. First, he tried the tiny chair. As he sat down, the chair let out a high-pitched squeak and then promptly collapsed into a pile of splinters. Harold shrugged. "Too flimsy," he said, standing up and dusting off the remnants of the chair. Next, he approached the average-sized chair. It seemed sturdy enough, with intricate carvings on the arms. Harold sat down gingerly, only for the chair to creak ominously and then explode into pieces, sending Harold tumbling to the floor. "Too fragile," Harold muttered, looking around to make sure no one had witnessed his latest disaster. Finally, Harold eyed the enormous chair. It looked like a throne, with plush cushions and a solid wooden frame. "This one's gotta be just right," Harold said with confidence. He plopped down onto the chair, and for a moment, everything was still. Then, with a loud crack, the chair didn’t just break, it disintegrated into a cloud of dust, leaving Harold sitting on the floor, bewildered. "Too… too much?" Harold said, coughing as the dust settled around him. Just as Harold was contemplating whether chairs were simply not his thing, he heard footsteps approaching. Three colossal figures entered the room, each more intimidating than the last. These weren’t bears; no, these were giant lumberjacks, each with a beard so thick it could double as a forest and arms as wide as tree trunks. The leader of the trio, who was also the tallest, spoke first. "Who’s been breaking my chair?" His voice boomed like thunder. The second, a burly woman with an apron, added, "And who’s been destroying my delicate armchair?" Finally, the smallest of the three, who was still twice the size of Harold, said, "And who’s been reducing my tiny chair to kindling?" Harold, always quick on his feet, offered a sheepish grin. "Uh, sorry about that! I guess you could say… I have a knack for breaking new ground?" The lumberjacks were not amused. But before they could grab their axes, Harold had a sudden burst of inspiration. "Wait, wait! How about a deal? I’ll fix all your chairs, no, I’ll make you better ones! The unbreakable kind! And in return, you don’t, uh, chop me into firewood." The lumberjacks exchanged glances, then nodded in agreement. They figured if Harold could break the chairs, he could probably figure out how to make stronger ones. Besides, they didn’t really want to deal with the mess Harold would likely make in their house if they let him go. And so, Harold, true to his word, spent the next few days crafting new, unbreakable chairs for the lumberjacks. He used the sturdiest wood he could find and even threw in some magic glue for good measure. When the lumberjacks tried the new chairs, they were astonished to find that even with all their weight and strength, the chairs held firm. In fact, they were so comfortable and durable that the lumberjacks couldn’t help but relax in them, their grumpy dispositions melting away. As for Harold, he left the forest with a new talent, not just for breaking things but for fixing them too. From that day on, he became known as the "Chair Master," a title he wore proudly, though he still managed to break a few things along the way. And the moral of the story? If you’re going to break it, at least have a plan to fix it… or a quick exit strategy! |
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