Apple Pie
Marcus, the lovable Viking, was walking through a village that he and his clan had just raided. He could smell something that to him, smelled like heaven.
“What is that smell?” asked Marcus, seeing a young girl standing in the doorway of the house the smell was coming from. “That smell is driving me insane. I need to find out what it is.”
“I am sorry mister,” said the young girl. “That smell is coming from my mother’s freshly baked apple pie. If the smell is bothering you, I can throw the pie out.”
“No!” yelled Marcus. “You cannot throw the pie out. Can I taste it?”
“Yes,” said the girl. “Just a second and I will get you a piece.”
Marcus could hardly stand the wait while the girl brought him a huge slice. He wanted to devour the whole pie but he knew that would be impolite.
“Here you go,” said the girl, handing Marcus a small plate with a huge slice of apple pie.
“Thank you,” said Marcus.
Marcus put the plate up to his nose and he sniffed it.
“This apple pie smells so good,” said Marcus, taking a big bite of it. “Oh my! I can’t believe how good this tastes. I have never tasted anything like it.”
“Mister,” said the young girl. “Have you never tasted apple pie before?”
“No I haven’t,” said Marcus, licking his plate clean.
“Would you like another slice?” asked the girl.
“I sure would,” said Marcus. “Excuse me. I forgot my manners. Yes, please.”
“You sure are polite for a Viking,” said the girl, handing Marcus another plate of apple pie.
“Thank you,” said Marcus, thoroughly enjoying his second slice of apple pie.
“All the other Vikings are mean and nasty,” said the girl.
“I am the lovable Viking,” said Marcus. “I don’t like to be mean and nasty. I don’t like seeing anyone cry.”
“I am glad,” said the girl. “It isn’t nice when you make people cry. All the other Vikings have made me cry before.”
“I will never make you cry,” said Marcus. “Besides if I make you cry, you would never give me another piece of apple pie.”
“True,” said the girl. “Although, you could always make your own apple pie.”
“And how do I do that?” asked Marcus.
“Well,” said the girl. “You will need some apples.”
“Where do I get apples from?” asked Marcus.
“Apples grow on an apple tree,” said the girl.
The girl told Marcus how he would have to pick, peel and slice the apples.
“I can do that,” said Marcus.
“If you can do all that,” said the girl. “You can bake an apple pie.”
“Thank you,” said Marcus. “Thank you for the apple pie. It was very delicious.”
“You are welcome,” said the girl.
Marcus went back to his ship and he saw his best friend and crewmate, Benjamin.
“Benjamin,” said Marcus. “Do we have any apples down below?”
“No,” said Benjamin. “We don’t. Nobody on the ship likes them.”
“Are you serious?” asked Marcus. “Has anyone on the ship tried apple pie?”
“No,” said Benjamin. “I don’t think so.”
“From now on,” said Marcus. “When we go on raids, I want you to bring me whatever apples you can find.”
Marcus baked a lot of apple pies from that day on. The whole crew loved to eat them as well. It got to the point that every time an apple pie was baked, Marcus had to fight the crew for some.
“This is ridiculous,” said Marcus. “From now on, I get the first slice of every apple pie that I bake.”
That arrangement seemed fine to the crew and from that day on, there was no more fighting over apple pie.
Moral of this Story:
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