Dead Love

Mort Amore or Dead Love for those of you who speak that other language, was a Penguin salesman in King Arthur’s Court. He never did meet that certain Yankee. He did; however, sell a whole lot of penguins. Mostly to Ladies in waiting whom were bored out of their minds waiting for their knight to return from whatever chivalrous quest happened to be on the agenda that month.
A nice penguin made a fine addition to any castle.
The penguins however were most unhappy during the summer because Mort Amore had gotten a load of them Arctic penguins who need cold weather to survive. It was all well and fine during the winter up there in England, but the summers were just too darn hot. So the penguins often died of heat exhaustion, insuring sales for the next year.
The English back then didn’t realize it was the weather. They thought it was a Penguin Thing, like leaves turning color.
Then one day a clever penguin by the name of William found his way down to the cold, dank dungeons under the castle he was living in one summer, and lived to be 50.
This got the attention of many other penguin owners, who have a tendency to get attached to their pet penguins, and it was found that although it was unpleasant down there, somehow if you put your pet penguin in the dungeon during the summer it wouldn’t die after all. They never did put two and two together, or if they did they got five.
Sir Parcival, the penguin lover, got wind of this situation and the next time he saw Mort Amore, he ran him out of England.
Chased him all the way back to France. Mort Amore couldn’t make a living in France because the Frenchmen couldn’t suffer to have pets that were naturally better dressed than they were.
Mort Amore wound up dying a pauper, just before the revolution. The first revolution.
The English wound up inventing the tuxedo.