My Time with the Lay-men
by: Sir dalas MacArthur verdugo III

 It all began at the sporting club. Sir Reginald was talking about how he had spent several months with a tribe of New Zealand Pygmies. Not to be outdone, Sir Walter Hampshire idly commented that he had spent no less than a year with a group of North American Lay-men (Homo Simplicus). I was taken aback, and inquired as to how he had managed such an adventure. Sir Walter then proceeded to tell me, in great detail, all of the specifics of the groups of Lay-men currently roaming this land of ours. It was then and there that I decided that I must meet these Lay-men for myself, and after hiring a native guide, and two able whores, I was off.
 The first week we spent merely searching for the Lay-men. The were hard to find, until we discovered a delightfully elementary trick; by simply setting a “television set” down in the middle of a clearing, we were able to attract large amounts of local Lay-men.  At first, we attracted only the males of the species, due to the nature of the shows on the television, mostly events of sport. We tried showing programmes such as “The View,” but this attracted only the females and the mentally retarded. Finally, we found the perfect show: “America’s Funniest Home Videos.”  Members of every Lay-man demographic popped out of the woodwork.
 I started my communications with the Lay-men slowly. I approached them with items that I knew they would find comfort in, such as fishing poles and Nascar merchandise.  They accepted me happily. I found that this species is very accepting to outsiders.  As I tried to talk to them, I discovered that I would have to learn a whole new language. The first thing I asked them was “How are you doing in all of your endeavors, Lay-men?” My native guide advised me on how to better pose this question (my two whores stood silently on the side, as it should be). I tried again. “What the fuck up, you dumb assholes?” This garnered a better response. They told me “Abso-fucking-lutely nothin. Just shootin’ the shit.” My guide told me that this meant they were in a period of rest and rejuvenation. I spent the rest of the day enthralled in the new learning process. I taught the Lay-men about wealth and fabulous celebrity parties, and they, in turn, taught me about prejudice and oppression! It was truly a joyous occasion.  Soon I was speaking fluent Laymanese. “Shut the fuck up, man, ‘fore I cut your ass” actually made sense to me!
 I left the Lay-men with a heavy heart. I was sad to depart from them, and I could tell that they were sad to see me go (they had also grown fond of my comely whores).  When I returned to proper society, I resolved myself in a new goal. I must bring the culture of the Lay-men to the learned classes. I took a post with a small publication, and the rest, as they say, is history.

PS – Fuck you, Dover, I write for myself and no one else.