The Turdstacker


During the early day’s while a young fellow named Jack was using the outhouse, which for those not old enough to remember such things, is kind of like a portable toilet only permanent, he was contemplating the way the native Americans used buffalo droppings for fuel on their fires. There weren’t any buffalo still around of course but Jack lived on a farm where there were plenty of other kinds of droppings and it was one of Jack’s chores to manage the collection and storage of them. Anyway, he was sitting there musing on the matter when it occurred to him that eventually the world would run out of cheap energy resources and if he could find a way to do something similar to what the native Americans had done, only on a larger scale, he could become wealthy. So Jack set about to design and build the equipment necessary. First of all he put together his offal collector. This would be used in the fields to collect the droppings after they dried and transport them to central area. Now Jack realized that he could probably make more from some droppings than others, so he designed a machine for sorting and grading. A poop sorter. After sorting, the product would have to be stacked in different piles ready for packaging and shipment, so Jack built his finest creation ever, an articulated, omni-directional turd stacker.
   Now at this point you probably are wondering why you have never seen or heard of these wonderful pieces of machinery. Well, it’s a long story but I’ll try to give you the gist of it, the digested version if you will.
   To start with it’s important to know that Jack’s real name was John but everyone called him Jack for short. And his family name was Dear. What’s maybe not so important is that mom Dear died when Jack, who is really John, was very young and that Dear dad took to hanging out at the pub, so they lost the farm and had to move to town and get jobs in the factory. It was about this time that Jack decided he could make more money just building the equipment and selling it to others to use. So Jack got some investors together and began to put together a factory and outlets to manufacture and sell his marvelous inventions. Being the president, chairman and major stockholder, he was able to pay himself a handsome salary of course.
   This soon attracted a young lady from the Lovely family who soon became a Lovely-Dear and in time there were two Dear children. But I wander.
   Jack called his company the John Dear Company because John was his real name, as we have mentioned, and his family name was Dear. And this is where Jack’s dream started to unravel or, as you might say, go to pot. About the same time Jack was pondering the problem of crap, someone else was looking at the matter only differently. They weren’t concerned about energy resources, and they reasoned that if you kept the poop manufacturers, or poopers, in one spot and brought the feed to them you could use a simple tractor with a bucket loader to scoop up the liquefied matter and wouldn’t need an expensive articulated omni-directional turd stacker. And then the crap could be dumped in a spreader pulled by the same tractor and put on the fields to increase the feed grown to feed the poopers. And of course more equipment could be sold to gather the feed from the fields, etc.
   The poopers could then produce milk or be sold for meat as new ones were born, or in the case of one kind of pooper, run around a big oval and let people bet on which one was faster.
   Now not everyone was sure that this would work and besides the John Dear Turdstacker was a piece of equipment sure to catch any mans fancy. But this other fellow called his company the John Deere Company. I don’t know why, if that were his name or what, but because his machinery was so much cheaper to build he had more stores. So when someone would set out to see the John Dear Turdstacker, they would come to his stores first and his crafty salesmen would sell them tractors and accessories. As a result Jack was soon in deep doo-doo. He had to close the factory and dissolve the company. The equipment that had been built was sold and dismantled for scrap. Except for the prototype that jack had hidden in storage.
   Of course Jack’s ex-Lovely wife wrote him a letter that started Dear John, and his Dear children ran away and became hippies.
   It’s been years since anybody’s heard of Jack or his remaining prototype. But sooner or later it’s bound to turn up on E-bay and somebody will get one of the greatest pieces of equipment ever devised by man, the John Dear Turdstacker.