The miller was a proud, proud man. He boasted constantly of his mill, of his prize collection of shrunken heads, but most of all of his lovely daughter Milleria. His
favorite place to boast was the Fliggity Flop Tavern on the edge of town, which he frequented every Tuesday evening. The Fliggity Flop Tavern was a place of constant argument, and the miller would always bring up the many talents of Milleria as par
t of the discussion. One Tuesday the subject would be cold fusion; “Why, my daughter Milleria can make hydrogen fuse as well as she can make apple pie!” the miller would say. Another Tuesday evening the subject would be the existence of wormho
les; “Why, my daughter Milleria found twenty-three wormholes in the apple orchard just last week!” the miller would say. But one fateful evening, the subject was the spontaneous generation of life. “Why, my daughter Milleria can spontaneously
generate life like a politician generates wind!” the miller boasted. Unfortunately for the miller, the despotic King Larry was seated quietly at a nearby table, and overheard all that transpired. (He was catching his breath after a gruel
ing ribbon-cutting ceremony at a bakery across the street.) “A young lady who can spontaneously generate life?” thought the king. Within half an hour, the miller, his daughter, and the collection of shrunken heads had all been “escorted” to Ki
ng Larry’s castle in the capital city.
Milleria, quite frazzled, was at a loss to explain herself.
Should she....
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