} Spam was born in a Monty Python sketch in the Green Midget Cafe, where
} the Vikings regrouped after they set sail on May the 23rd. Then spam
} selected the spam particular spam item from the spam menu, and spam spam
} spam spam spam spam spam spam lovely spam! lovely spam, lovely spam!
} lovely spam.
} You spam owe the spam Oracle a plate of spam, egg, sausage, and spam for
} Message from oracle-sup on ttyp0 at 3:21 ...
} No good, no good! I want you to rewrite that question and make it GOOD!
} If I see you trying to steal from Monty Python again, I'll throw you out
} of school for plagiarism!
} % write oracle-sup
} Sorry, sir... I mean, professor... I mean, MASTER!
} Now get to work!
} And you thought YOUR final exams were tough...
} OK, Spam was developed by the British Army, who was searching for a food
} that could withstand nuclear attack and still come out edible. It's an
} acronym for Sickening Plastic Artificial Meat.
} You owe the Oracle the chemical makeup of Spam jelly.
} Message from oracle-sup on ttyp0 at 3:24 ...
} Come on, get with the program! 4 lines? That's ridiculous!
} % write oracle-sup
} OK, OK, you forced me into it, I'll give them a proper answer.
} You better!
} Once upon a time, little Billy Bunny was hopping along, near the
} brook that bubbled through the green grass, munching on the tenderest
} of the blades. Nice Mr. Sun shined happily over the field and watched
} over all the little forest creatures. It was a wonderful life.
} But this wasn't enough for Billy Bunny. One day he told his mom
} that he was going to leave his happy life in the green green meadow
} to seek out his fortune.
} "What?! You can't leave the meadow! No one has ever left the
} meadow! And those who stray too close to the edge are never seen
} again!" Mom Bunny was shaking her little foot at him.
} "They probably found out it was a lot better!" Billy countered, making
} the fatal mistake of trying to use logic with his parents.
} Mom Bunny cowered. "Oh, I think the edge of the meadow is dreadful.
} I think it's very dangerous. I don't want you going near it. Whatever
} happened to all those animals must be frightening." She pulled her
} little sweater over her shoulders.
} "Oh, come on, Mom, get a grip!" Billy said, trying to sound like Bart
} Simpson on TV.
} "Don't talk to your mother like that!" Pa Rabbit said, smacking Billy
} across the chops, sending him flying. "You're going to bed without
} your supper!"
} Little Billy cowered in the hole in the grass he called his bed. He
} couldn't sleep; no one can sleep when they're hungry, but he couldn't
} tell his parents that; he had already tried to be logical with them
} ONCE tonight. His parents were obviously always awful to him. So he
} decided to run away that night.
} He made a mad dash through the grass, bouncing and bouncing over the
} tufts and flowers. Old Mr. Moon gazed at him menacingly, the cold glow
} giving Billy shivers. With a mighty leap, he bounded over a large
} patch of clover and fell straight into the brook, now a tumbling stream
} of treacherous eddies and whirls. Old Man Moon smirked sinisterly as
} Billy tumbled down the stream, the shifts of current pulling him under
} and threatening to drown him.
} Billy pulled himself out of the river, throwing up water with every
} step. There was a funny taste in his mouth, the likes of which he had
} never experienced in the happy, carefree life of the meadow.
} Unbeknownst to him but knownst to us, he has washed into the Thames,
} and he had just swallowed a near-fatal dose of the most lethal
} environmental toxins known to that era of British history.
} Well of course, Billy hit puberty a few minutes after that, found a
} female bunny whose internal timer had also just gone off, and proceeded
} to do it in the grass. And of course, since rabbits don't know about
} birth control, they had lots of children. But these were not ordinary
} bunnies. They acted more like pigs. The toxic waste had damaged
} Billy's reproductive organs and his very own genetic code.
} OK, I've hit my mandatory 50 lines, so to make a long story short, the
} British government find the children, breed a lot of them, and they
} make Spam out of the mutated bunnies. OK? The end.
} You owe the Oracle a copy of his final exam.
} Message from oracle-sup on ttyp0 at 4:05 ...
} Not bloody likely.