Master Plan!!!


Master of Games!!!

An old man who lived in a small side street in the city of Mumbai had to put up with the nuisance of having boys play cricket outside his house, at night.

One evening when the boys were particularly noisy, he went out to talk to them.

He explained that he was a pensioner who was happiest when he could see or hear boys playing his favorite game, cricket. He said he would give them 25 rupees each week to play in the street at night.

The boys were thrilled.

They were being paid to do something they enjoyed.

At the end of the first week they knocked at the old man’s house and asked to be paid.

He did so.

The second week when they asked for payment he said he had run out of money and sent them away with only 15 rupees.

The third week the man said he had not yet received his pension and gave them only 10 rupees.

The boys were very disappointed but there was not much they could do about it.

The fourth week the man said he could not afford to pay them 25 rupees as he had promised, but would give those 5 rupees each week without fail.

This was too much for the boys.

“You expect us to play seven days a week for a measly 5 rupees!” they yelled.

“Go to blazes.”

They stormed away and never played on the street again.

Urs,

SRK

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Master Of Masters!!!


One day, Jesus and St. Peter were walking through a village, when they came to a blacksmith shop.

 

Peter gave Jesus a nudge. “Lord, look at that.”

 

Jesus looked above the door and saw a sign saying, “Master of Masters.”

 

“Hmm,” said Jesus. “Let’s look into this.”

 

Inside, the blacksmith was at his forge, pounding on a horseshoe.

 

“I saw the sign over your door,” said Jesus. “What does it mean?”

 

“Can’t you read?” said the smith. “It means what it says. I’m the Master of Masters.”

 

“That’s quite a coincidence,” said Jesus. “That’s what people call me.”

 

“Then they’d better stop,” said the smith. “I’m the greatest blacksmith that ever lived. That makes me the Master of Masters.”

 

Just then, a man came in, saying, “Blacksmith, my horse is outside. Will you shoe it for me?”

 

“Certainly,” said the smith. “Come back for it in an hour.”

 

When the man had left, Jesus asked, “Mind if I try my hand at it?”

 

The smith looked him up and down. “I guess you can’t do so much harm that I can’t put it right.”

 

Now, usually, to shoe a horse, you pull the shoe off the horse’s hoof, heat the shoe in the fire, hammer it at the anvil to bend up the ends, then nail it back on the hoof. But that’s not what Jesus did.

 

He took hold of one of the horse’s legs and gave a little tug.

 

Pop! The leg came right off. He carried it inside, stuck the hoof in the fire, then laid it on the anvil and bent up the shoe. Then he carried the leg back outside and—pop!—stuck it back on the horse.

 

“Never saw that trick before,” said the smith. “Mind if I try it?”

 

“Be my guest,” said Jesus.

 

The smith took hold of another leg and tugged and tugged. But all he got for his trouble was a kick from the horse.

 

“Watch me again,” said Jesus.

 

He took hold of the leg—pop!—pulled it off, brought it inside to the fire, bent the shoe at the anvil, and stuck the leg back on the horse—pop! Then he went around and did the same with the other two legs.

 

“I have to admit, I’m impressed,” said the smith.

 

“That’s nothing,” said Jesus. “Watch this.

 

A man with a hunchback was passing by. Jesus said, “Sir, let me relieve you of that burden.”

 

“Are you mocking me?” asked the man angrily.

 

“Not at all,” said Jesus. “Please come into the shop.”

 

Jesus brought the man inside, picked him up, and stuck his hump in the fire. Then he laid him on the anvil and picked up the blacksmith’s hammer. Whomp! whomp! whomp! He pounded that man’s back as straight as a ruler.

 

Jesus set him down. The man cried, “Hallelujah!”, jumped six feet in the air, and raced on down the street.

 

“Never saw that trick, either,” said the smith. “Mind if I try that one, too?”

 

“I wouldn’t, if I were you,” said Jesus. “It’s tougher than it looks.”

 

“I imagine you’re right,” said the smith. He went straight outside and took down his sign. And he never again called himself the Master of Masters.

 

Cheers,

 

SRK