Once in the land of Chug there lived a people who chattered pleasantly but incessantly about nothing all day and so were quite annoying. They called themselves the Chuggers, but to the other villages in the area they were “The People Whom Everyone Wishes Would Suddenly Go Mad, Foolishly Believe They Were Lemmings, And Run Off A Cliff To Plummet About Three Hundred Feet And Smash Their Most-Likely Still Chattering Heads On The Sharp Rocks Below.”
Among the Chuggers was a cheesemaker called Igota by the townspeople and other things by his wife that we shall not repeat here. Every day Igota would go to his shop in the Chuggish village of Backwashwatershipdownthedraino and pour old milk into his vat, then jump into the vat and swim laps in the spoiled dairy product until the bacteria in his armpits turned the milk into wonderful cheese.
Life went on peacefully, though a bit loudly, and the Chuggers always had wonderful cheese to eat until one day word came that He Who Inspects Cheese And Makes Sure It Is Yellow, Chewy and Overall Tasty With Just The Right Consistency (called “the Cheese Wizard” by the less educated among the populace) was coming to inspect Igota’s shop. Igota was excited, for rumor had spread through the cheese vine that this year the Cheese Wizard would name someone the Ultimate Cheesemaker.
Suddenly everyone who gave a whit about cheese–three rats, a tax collector and an old man dragging along an IV unit–converged on the village. Igota was proud, and he swam in the cheese vat all day and night, practicing his backstroke and trying to get the bacteria in his armpits into tip-top shape.
At last the Cheese Wizard came to the village. He visited Igota’s house, sniffed the cheese vat approvingly, then burned the entire village and ordered the townspeople slaughtered by the military. The Cheese Wizard then declared his brother-in-law the Ultimate Cheesemaker and moved to a condo in the Land of Sandy Beaches And Happy People in Bathing Suits Whose Lives Off The Beach All Pass In Musical Montages.