There was once a boy who died and stayed dead forever. Today people gather weekly to chant his name. The end.

There was once a girl who lived beneath a tree and who, when it fell, was forced to relocate to another hillside. Today people gather weekly to chant for rain. The end.

There has never been a boy who liked a girl without liking more than the girl the way the girl made him like himself. Today people gather weakly to chant in vain. The end.

There will always be another. Of whatever we happen to be discussing. The end.