Husbands in remote Kreplachistan still attend "Poosiwippauniversitaat" or "School for Husbands." It's as mandatory before a Kreplachi wedding as a prenup in Beverly Hills.
Potential husbands learn important skills
like taking out the trash, mowing the lawn without prompting, cleaning up after the goats in the
yard, running errands and putting down the toilet seat.
"It is a difficult habit to
break if
your mother did not teach you, as a young boy, to do this," remarks Hayseed Fuzzlov, one of the students who hoped he would marry
well as a result of his studies. "I always use the toilet with the seat down," confides the more savvy
Fabian Goatchek. "My mother trained me
well."
It is said that the best brides will
reject any proposal from a potential
husband who doesn't possess the distinctive diploma, a whip crossed with a rolling pin tatooed on a tanned
cat skin. "I wouldn't want a woman who didn't want me to have this schooling," remarks Igo Bonkers, a young man with a flourishing mustache, traditional in this mountainous land and useful for straining the bugs and leaves out of the strong Kreplachi
tea "She would be a kind of a slut if she didn't." Unfortunately, after he uttered the Kreplachi word for "slut", three Amazons charged out of the bushes and clubbed him senseless with rolling pins. Such
words are beneath the classically trained male students, and violations of the rules are judged harshly.
Advanced studies in diaper changing, doing dishes without breakage, foot-rubbing and finding gainful employment are available for those who really are serious about a good
marriage, and remedial courses are typically completely booked months in advanced.
The final exam is said to be very tough: "They might ask you something difficult
like 'Does this dress make me look fat' and you'd better have the right answer. You could die right on the spot if you get it wrong" Bonkers tells the reporter.
Last year eight men didn't make it through the course. But even their mothers weren't terribly sorry. "They just didn't learn. Not that we didn't try." remarked one mother, whose late son was a notable dunce. "He deserved what he got."
