Dawson Filter as He Relates to Chairs


Dawson Filter whistled. He was in Antarctica at the time. Babe Listowel, who had the idea to invade Antarctica in the first place, looked around himself for defending troops. Seeing none, he took out a pen to write down the number of defending troops, and panned the area for civilians to rule. One stood by a table South of the ocean. His name tag read “North Tender.”

“We don’t have chairs, so you’ll have to stand or lie down or sit on something that’s not a chair or kneel or jump or something,” North Tender called out to the group.

“What to you mean ‘we’?” Babe Listowel asked, “There’s only one of you!”

“Then who am I talking to?”

“You’re on our side, then?”

North Tender pointed to Babe’s lack of chairs. “Looks like we’ve got something in common. I’m Tender, by the way; but most of my friends call me North, on account of my first name.”

“I am Babe Listowel, king of Murderville, Nevada. I have come to invade your lands.”

“Nevada…” North Tender thought for a moment, “…I guess that’d be north, wouldn’t it? If you’re planning on living here, you’d better change your name to North Babe. We have certain conventions here.”

The rest of the group introduced themselves, and North Tender called over some of his friends.

“This is North Winnie and North Dallas, and their son Neutral Peter. He born yesterday. People whom I just mentioned, this is other people. I forget most of their names. They’re from up north.”

Everyone took turns making eye contact until they all felt they knew each other adequately.

“Father, do they have any chairs?” Neutral Peter asked North. He could have easily looked up and seen the groups glaring lack of chairs, or stopped being everything wrong with the youth of Antarctica and listened to his elder; but Neutral Peter was only born the previous day, so he can perhaps be excused, although he was 89 in doughnut years. North Dallas took the perhaps and excused his son.

Babe Listowel began to feel the heat of the invasion starting to fade. He took out his pen again, filled it with gasoline, and took out a highlighter. He covered the portion of the lighter that read “high” to deceive the Antarcticans. Holding the highlighter to the pen, he warned them to step back.

“Oh no!” cried North Winnie, “What are we going to do about all this danger?”

“Flee!” two Norths and a Neutral suggested in unison. As they dashed away, they stumbled across a penguin and saw an opportunity. North Tender picked up the penguin and covered the portion that read “guin.”

“Look, Babe, we both have pens; both of us do. We don’t need to fight or something! We can just do something else.”

Dawson Filter let out a clap of agreement.

“See, that one gets it,” North continued, “if we co-operate, we can do something else! Co-can! Co-can! Co-can! Co-can!”

Others joined the chant. Dawson Filter smiled as Babe Listowel threw his highlighter onto the ice. This was what feelings were all about.

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