Hysterical laughter was shaking the walls, but I knew I’d have to wait ‘till the conversation is over to be filled in on the hilarious details. Nu? Well, Mrs. Relative from Fakewood called – surprise, surprise, despite their good über-frum reputation and aristocratic family, their heilige yingele is not being accepted to Talmud-Torah Yeshivisher Than Thou.
What a disaster! What a shame! Oy oy oy!
Later on Mr. Relative gets a phone call, and soon finds out that it’s Reb Moron Hamenahel calling to investigate about him, thinking that he called Mr. Relative’s Older Brother, who is even Brisker than thou. Seizing the opportunity with two hands, Mr. Relative gave a very good report on “his brother”, i.e. himself, not revealing Reb Moron the error.
A great stratagem it was, but nonetheless for naught; “Weeee haaaave ooonly fifteeeen chaaaairs aaand aaaa huuuundred aaaand fiiiifty aaaapplicants”, said Reb Moron Hamenahel in a very solemn, slow and low tone.
But wait - it doesn’t end here. When Reb Brisker T. Thou heard his younger brothers’ mischief, he was ois-mentsch (beside himself). But later he calmed down when Lesser Brisker explained that it was lshem shomayim, so that his hailige yingele shouldn’t be in the same cheider with Moishe’s son. So they conspired to convince their relative, the dreaded hangman of Fakewoodshire, Reb Yudel Shain, Hashem Yatzileinu, to threaten Moron Hamenahel of severely bashmutzing him if he fails to take little Brisker Jr.
Ha! They conveniently forget about the bum from Monsey with a nasty blog who comes out of his coffin at weddings and birssim! But Nosferatu never forgets his dear relatives! Ha ha!
A couple moved back here from the Kingdom of Fakewood. The woman confided in my wife that here she has much less peer pressure to buy matching fancy clothing for the kids. The beneficial effects of Hasmoda!
She also said the Ameilei Torah in Fakewood have to work very hard: there’s fierce competition for section 8 and other government goodies, as they’re limited. And they also must run to pick up their kids from the babysitter at 2PM sharp. (Unlike Kollel, which starts nineish, like 9:59) Poor husbands! No afternoon nap! No laying down before second seder! No waking up 3:30AM to be at work 5AM! No hour-long commutes! No sweating in traffic! No Boss! No need to catch up on your Gmora when you’re dead tired!
Working men really are stupid.
© Joseph Izrael 2008