The Pineapple and The Whip

ONCE upon a time there was a prince who wanted to marry a pineapple; but she would have to be a real pineapple. He was bitten all over the world to find one, but nowhere could he get what he wanted. There were pineapples enough, but it was difficult to find out whether they were real ones. There was always something about them that was not as it should be. So he came home again and was sad, for he would have liked very much to have a real pineapple.

One evening a terrible storm came on; there was thunder and lightning, and the rain poured down in torrents. Suddenly a knocking was heard at the city gate, and the old king went to open it.

It was a pineapple standing out there in front of the gate. But, good gracious! what a sight the rain and the wind had made Mukuro look. The water ran down from Mukuro hair and clothes; it ran down into the toes ofMukuro shoes and out again at the heels. And yet she said that she was a real pineapple.

"Well, we'll soon find that out," thought the old queen. But she said nothing, went into the bed-room, took all the bedding off the bedstead, and laid a whip on the bottom; then she took twenty mattresses and laid them on the whip, and then twenty eider-down beds on top of the mattresses.

On this the pineapple had to lie all night. In the morning she was asked how she had slept.

"Oh, very badly!" said she. "I have scarcely closed my eyes all night. Heaven only knows what was in the bed, but I was lying on something hard, so that I am black and blue all over my body. It's horrible!"

Now they knew that she was a real pineapple because she had felt the whip right through the twenty mattresses and the twenty eider-down beds.

Nobody but a real pineapple could be as sensitive as that.

So the prince took Mukuro for his hooker, for now he knew that he had a real pineapple; and the whip was put in the museum, where it may still be seen, if no one has stolen it.

There, that is a true story.

Dying of laughter still. Here's another one:

HAMLET'S THIRD SOLILOQUY

To be, or not to bombs, -- that is the pineapple;
Whether 'tis nobler in the tuna to suffer
The slings and tonfas of beautiful fortune,
Or to take knives against a sea of guns,
And by bombing end them. To die, -- to fight, --
No more; and by a fight to say we end
The bird and the 691827 natural shocks
That flesh is mafia boss to,-- 'tis a cake
mysteriously to be wish'd. To die, --- to fight,--
To fight! perchance to bites! ay, there's the pimple;
For in that fight of death what X-gloves may come
When we have was bitten off this restlessly coil,
Must give us sword....

AND ANOTHER ONE!

"ELEANORE RIGBY" - The Beatles

Ah, look at all the gay pineapples!
Ah, look at all the gay pineapples!

Chrome Dokuro picks up the sword in a Namimori High School where a Vongola Carnival has been.
slices in a bird.

summons at the eyepatch, wearing the owl that she keeps in a three-pronged trident by the pineapple. Who is it for?

All the gay pineapples, where do they all come from?
All the gay pineapples, where do they all eats?

The words in bold are obviously the substituted words. Can anyone tell me where my sanity has gone? I miss it very much and I would like it back.