LOLLIPOPS ARE IT

It was a serious meeting. World leaders from every country were there, as were the respective Heads, CEOs, Leaders, Chief Motivators and whatever else of the World Health Organisation, World Bank, corporate houses, non-profit organisations, and the Lollipop Growers Association of Hubli.

"This situation is getting out of hand," Dr. Liz Snky, Head of the WHO, commented. She had just opened the window for some fresh air, and a couple of toads had hopped in all over her carefully prepared speech.

"It is indeed," said the Maharaja of Garam Pani, trying to keep the toads off his freshly fitted tuxedo. (The toad perched on his turban instead. The Maharaja's turban was so heavy he didn't notice it and the others didn't tell him because they figured better his turban than hopping around the room.)

"We can't grow any lollipops," lamented Rob Donnelange, of the Lollipop Growers Association.

"Stop crying, Rob," Liz said. "No one can grow lollipops anyway."

"People could grow lollipops if the world hadn't been taken over by toads," Donnelange said. "Do something about the toads, Liz, it's your job."

"Rob, please get out of here."

"I have as much right to be hre as you do."

"Okay, stay, but don't talk about lollipops."

They talked and talked, but couldn't come up with a solution to the toad puzzle.

Finally, it was the toad, happily nestling in the Maharaja's turban, who supplied the solution.

"Give us lollipops and we'll leave you alone."

The deal was struck.

The toads had their lollipops. Humanity had its peace.


(Apologies to the judge. I started the story, had to interrupt, and came back to finish it abruptly just in time. I know it needs more build up.)