Dear Readers, once upon a time, there was a certain fair maiden who had a Prince waiting for her in marriage. They married and he became bedridden for a time and was carried off by a mafia man in a suitcase not, but in the trunk of a get-away car, which was not hilariously funny, but instead was terrifying for the man, the Prince. He became scared of everyone, and ran away from his wife, thinking she was going to hurt him when she brought him his dinner of fish and chips (fries in American, Canadian and who knows what).
His name was Rufus, Prince Rufus. Prince Rufus was so bejangled by mafia men he couldn't get a wink's sleep. He lay awake all night, thinking someone was going to kill him. You know what that's like! You don't get much rest.
Prince Rufus became emaciated and thin, from no food and no sleep. He hobbled in one morning and meowed, like a cat, or a kitten who needed milk. So Mummy, his wife, got him milk, not knowing what to do to save him from sleep deprivation and starvation, the poor dear (him).
She got him milk and he lapped it up at the table, fully engrossed in the task and said, "Thank you," not only, but, "Please may I have some more?" He soon was back up on his feet after sleeping an hour longer than he usually did when he slept, and there is the moral of the story, "Milk is good for you, if you are not allergic to it".
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