The Flirtatious Minister

by my roomate and I

Once upon a time, in a not so far away land, there lived a flirtatious minister and his many ardent admirers. He had flocks and flocks of ardent admirers who followed him day and night, sighing after his twinkling eyes and charming dimpled smiles. Obviously, there were jealous feelings and much discord among the flock. Each thought she should be the minister’s wife. However, there was also in the land, a wise yet sarcastic young damsel who was secretly in love with the flirtatious minister, though she often ridiculed the amorous flock for their ardent pursual of that very man with which she was in love.
One day, as the young damsel was sadly sweeping the stairs of the small chapel and singing a wishful song slightly out of key, a lonely tear trailed down her cheek to the floor. The lonely, crystal tear fell at the feet of the minister himself.
“Why so sad, dear lady?” the kind but flirtatious minister inquired in his usual way. “This is a lovely day. Let us not waste it crying! Come let us dine together at the top of Rainbow Ridge, where we will feast off the fat of the wild strawberries.”
The damsel was quite taken aback at the minister’s smooth-talking ways, but after he assured her that his offer was genuine and his intentions noble, she needed no further persuasion.
“Oh, kind sir! I would be delighted to join you at Rainbow Ridge to feast off the fat of the wild strawberries!” the damsel replied, demurely (because damsels always reply demurely).
“Very well then,” the minister said, flashing a charming dimpled grin at the damsel, thus sealing the fate of her heart.
“Shall I meet you at seven?”
“That would be lovely,” the damsel replied (once again) demurely, her wishful song and crystal tears forgotten.
And so it was that they met that evening at seven at the peak of Rainbow Ridge, the minister atop his noble steed and the damsel swinging on her arm a basket full of strawberries. They were enjoying their lovely picnic together, unaware of the danger that lurked in the shadows. The flock, unbeknownst to the minister and the damsel, had followed them up the ridge and now jealously watched them from afar. The minister was furiously flirting with the damsel, which further enraged the jealous flock. As he reached forth his hand to hold hers, the entire flock, afraid of being replaced in his affections, surged forth as a unit, intent upon the destruction of their opponent. Their intent was the demise of the damsel, but in their hurried confusion, knocking each other over, they unknowingly stampeded the flirtatious minister over the edge of Rainbow Ridge. Their anger immediately turned to shock as they watched the object of their affections plummet to his death into the raging river below. The horrified flock had followed him for many years and could not bear to part from him. In a seemingly simultaneous decision, they hurled themselves from the cliff, like many lemmings, and followed the minister unto death, the brightly colored skirts of their dresses billowing about them like parachutes, and like gems, floated down the river after him.
As the wise yet sarcastic damsel stared over the edge of the cliff, she was startled to hear a noise, and turned to see the prince of the land who was perfect in every way. The damsel was quite in awe of him, and he of her. He plucked her up and placed her upon his dashing noble steed and rode off into the sunset to the castle, where he married her, and followed her about like a puppy does its master.
However, she never forgot the day when the flirtatious minister and his horde of admirers met their doom, and since that tragic point in time, Rainbow Ridge was renamed Lover’s Leap in memorium of that fateful day.

The moral of this tragic tale: NEVER cry a crystal tear in front of a flirtatious minister.