The Summer Adventure of the Three Ivy-League Lawyers

Once upon a time there were three lawyers, who, after graduating from their Ivy League school, decided to have some fun. All summer long, they visited the city's night clubs, pubs and similar places of entertainment, playing games and having a ball. None were happier than the three Ivy-League lawyers, who easily made friends with everyone. Wherever they went, they were given a warm welcome, but as summer drew to a close, they realized that people were drifting back to their usual jobs, and preparing for winter. Autumn came and it began to rain. The three Ivy League lawyers started to feel they needed to establish a home. Sadly, they knew that the fun was over now and they must set to work like the others, or they'd be left in the cold and rain, with no roof over their heads. They talked about what to do, but each decided for himself. The laziest Ivy-League lawyer said he'd build a straw bungalow. "It will only take a day,' he said. The others disproved. "It's too fragile," they said in chorus, but he refused to listen. Not quite so lazy, the second Ivy-League lawyer went in search of planks of seasoned wood. "Bang! Bang! Bang!" It took him two days to nail the wood boards together. But the third ivy-league lawyer did not like the wooden house. "That's not the way to build a house!" he said. "It takes time, patience and hard work to build a house that is strong enough to stand up to wind, rain, and snow, and most of all, protect us from the Process Server!" The days went by, and the wisest ivy-league lawyer's house took shape, brick by brick. From time to time, his brothers visited him, saying with a chuckle. "Why are you working so hard? Why don't you come and play?" But the stubborn bricklayer lawyer just said "no." "I shall finish my house first. It must be solid and sturdy. And then I'll come and paint the town red with you!" he said. "I shall not be foolish like you! For he who laughs last, laughs longest!" It was the wisest Ivy-League lawyer that found the tire tracks of the evil Process Server in their neighborhood. The ivy-league lawyers rushed home in alarm. Along came the Process Server, scowling fiercely at the laziest lawyer's straw bungalow. "Come out!" ordered the Process Server, his eyes bulging. I want to speak to you!" "I'd rather stay where I am!" replied the Ivy-League lawyer in a meek voice. "I'll make you come out!" growled the Process Server angrily, and puffing out his chest, he took a very deep breath. Then he blew with all his might, right onto the house. And all the straw the silly lawer had heaped against some thin poles, fell down in the great blast. Excited by his own cleverness, the Process Server did not notice that the Ivy-League lawyer had slithered out from underneath the heap of straw, and was dashing towards his brother's wooden house. When he realized that the Ivy-League lawyer was escaping, the Process Server grew wild with rage. "Come back!" he roared, trying to catch the fleeing attorney-at-law as he ran into the wooden house. The other Ivy-League lawyer greeted his brother, shaking like a leaf. "I hope this house won't fall down! Let's lean against the door so he can't break in!" Outside, the Process Server could hear the Ivy-League lawyers' words. Determined as he was, he rained blows on the door. "Open up! Open up! I only want to speak to you!" Inside, the two brothers wept in fear and did their best to hold the door fast against the blows. Then the furious Process Server braced himself a new effort: he drew in a really enormous breath, and went ... WHOOOOO! The wooden house collapsed like a pack of cards. Luckily, the wisest Ivy-League lawyer had been watching the scene from the window of his own brick house, and he rapidly opened the door to his fleeing brothers. And not a moment too soon, for the Process Server was already hammering furiously on the door. This time, the Process Server had grave doubts. This house had a much more solid aspect to it than the others. He blew once, he blew again and then for a third time. But all was in vain. For the house did not budge an inch. The three Ivy-League lawyers watched him and their fear began to fade. Quite exhausted by his efforts, the Process Server decided to try one of his tricks. He scrambled up a nearby ladder, on to the roof to have a look at the chimney. However, the wisest Ivy-League lawyer had seen this ploy, and he said quickly: "Quick! Light the fire!" With his long legs thrust down the chimney, the Process Server was not sure if he should slide down the black hole. It wouldn't be easy to get in, but the sound of the Ivy-League lawyers' voices below only made him feel more determined. "I'm going to try to get down." And he let himself drop. But landing was rather hot, too hot! The Process Server landed in the fire, stunned by his fall. The flames licked seat of the pants of his dark-blue Brooke's Brother's suit, and his backside became singed. "Never again! Never again will I go down a chimney" he declared, as he jumped onto a bucket of water. Then he ran away, back to his Corvette as fast as he could. The three happy Ivy-League laywers, dancing round and round the yard, began to sing. "Tra-la-la! Tra-la-la! The wicked Process Server will never come back!" From that day on, the now wiser Ivy-League lawyer brothers set to work with a will. In less than no time, up went the two new brick houses. The Process Server did return once to roam in the neighborhood, but when he caught sight of three chimneys, he remembered the terrible pain of a burnt pants, and he left for good. Now safe and happy, the wisest Ivy-League lawyer called to his brothers. "No more work! Come on, let's celebrate by eating and drinking like three little pigs!" The End