(Ok, it's not a 'song'... ;)  This is an old joke I remember my Dad telling awhile back, adapted for UO - hope you like it!)

The Tale of Benjamin the Miner

Once upon a time, there was a miner named Benjamin. Bennie, as his friends called him, used to ply his trade in the desert mountains north-east of Britain.

Every day, he would rise early, enjoy a hearty breakfast with his wife, and venture from their tiny home, across the desert, to the mountains. And, after long grueling hours of swinging his pickaxe and gathering ore, he would return, across the desert, to his home.

Every day, the same. Another day mining. And another. And another....

Until one day, while returning home, he became lost in a blinding sandstorm. Having lost his sense of direction, he wandered in circles, unable to find his way home. With his water supply exhausted, he was about to give up hope, when he stumbled across something protruding from the sand.

Looking down, he saw something metallic had been partially uncovered by the recent storm, and he knelt to look closer. Brushing more sand away from the object with his hands, he pulled it from the sand, and recognized it as an ancient bronze oil lamp. Believing that it might have some value (assuming he were to actually survive his present predicament), he pushed it into his backpack... and in so doing, rubbed the lamp slightly...

*POOOOOOOOOF*

To Bennie's amazement, a huge blue Djinn appeared with a roar and puff of smoke! To his further amazement, he heard the Djinn proclaim in a loud and thunderous voice, "Goooooooood Morning Vietnam!!!!  *mumbles*  Oh, sorry - wrong script. Actually, I'm here to say 'thanks' for releasing me from the prison of the lamp! To show my gratitude, I shall grant you three wishes - but there will be a 'catch', that I will only disclose once you've made the wishes. Shall we proceed?"

Bennie was beside himself with fear and shock at the sight of the Djinn, but realizing that he had consigned himself to die in the desert anyway, he felt he had little to lose at this point.

"I agree to your proposal", Bennie replied in an unsteady voice. "My wishes are these; first, I'd like a pack horse, fully stocked with food and water, that will lead my straight from this place to my home. Second, I wish to have 20 million gold pieces deposited into my bank account. Third, I wish my modest home to be replaced by a magnificent castle, fully decorated with 2 of every rare item existing in these lands."

The Djinn scratched his chin, smiled broadly, clasped his hands togther and proclaimed in a booming voice, "So shall it be done!"  As a well-rested pack horse appeared before Bennie, the Djinn assured him his other wishes had been granted as well.

"And now", said the Djinn, "it is time for me to reveal the 'catch' I mentioned earlier. You are now free to enjoy the fruits of your wishes until the day you die... except... you must never - never - shave your face again! For if you ever do, in that very moment, you will irrevocably be turned into a vase. *mumbles* Or was it a bowl? *mumbles* It is of no matter - just know that you should never shave or something really bad will happen!!"

Bennie thought to himself that he could certainly go without shaving for the rest of his life, considering his life had been saved, and that he was now one of the wealthiest citizens in all of Britainnia! "I accept!", he said.

The Djinn shook Bennie's hand, and the two parted ways. Bennie followed his pack horse, which, indeed, led him directly to his magnificent new castle! As he approached the front door, his lovely wife Joan-Brenna Annats burst out of the castle saying, "Oh, dearest Bennie! I feared that you would never return! And look what happened to our house - isn't it wonderful? Oh, and the banker stopped by to thank us for our recent deposit of 20 million gold pieces - can you believe it??" Bennie said that he could, indeed, believe it, and began to tell her of his adventure as they entered the castle...

Years rolled by, and Bennie and his wife lived happily, or so Bennie thought. One day, over breakfast, his wife abruptly pronounced, "Bennie - I've had it. I just have to say this! I've been married to you all these years, and I've never once complained, but - that beard has GOT to go! You're always tripping over it, birds are nesting in it, and quite frankly, its just plain nasty. I insist you shave it immediately!"

Bennie sighed and said, "You know I can't shave it - I told you the story - something horrible will happen!" His wife scoffed - "After all these years, that Djinn has surely forgotten - and you've certainly suffered that beard long enough to satisfy him of any obligation..." She made this demand relentlessly, until, out of sheer exasperation, Bennie exclaimed, "Alright!! Alright already!! I'll shave the blasted thing off!"

So Bennie made his way to the bathroom, where he began to lather up his beard. Sharpening his razor, he looked at his own reflection in the mirror, saying to himself, "Surely this won't be a problem, right?"

Bennie began shaving, and his very long beard began to fall away from his face, whisker by lenghty whisker.  Suddenly, at the same instant that he shaved the last whisker, time itself seemed to slow.  As Bennie watched the last whisker falling slowly towards the ground, he felt his body begin to *change*. And the last thing he heard, as his body forever changed into a spitoon, was the voice of his wife saying... "Putz."

And the moral of this story, boys and girls, is.... a Bennie shaved... is a Bennie urned.