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Cosmere Dad Jokes

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BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

 

 

I'm a sucker for puns, these are amazing

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Elend: I’m a Mistborn. 

Straff: Hi Mistborn, I’m dad. 

How are spren children made?

By spren donors. 

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Oh my harmony, this is amazing.

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Where do they come up with Shard names?

in-tents!

Why don't you see many birds on Roshar?

Because they're all fowl

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Q. Why does Dalinar always carry an umbrella with him?

A. Because Odium reigns.

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On 5/8/2019 at 2:35 PM, Jetter said:

Why don't you see many birds on Roshar?

Because they're all fowl

Shouldn’t this be ‘Because they’re all chicken.’

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15 hours ago, Chromium Compounder said:

Shouldn’t this be ‘Because they’re all chicken.’

Why did Moash cross to the other side? -- To get to the other chicken!

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Posted (edited)

I have a "shaggy dog Dad story" for you all. It is a story about Gaz.

After Kaladin's stunt with the disastrous side-carry maneuver he taught to Bridge Four, Gaz was temporarily elated to be free of his "debt" to Lamaril, who had been executed as the lowest-level lighteyes in charge of the bridgemen. He had already felt guilty for being bullied into mistreating the bridgemen so much; could he find a way to salve his conscience, now that he was free of the burden of blackmail?

Unfortunately for him, Brightlord Matal and his wife Hashal took over.

Lamaril had been a lighteyes of rather low rank, eigth dahn, while Gaz' new bosses were both of the seventh dahn: someone viewed as a more senior officer, now pressed into the not-insigificant task of bringing the disturbingly inspirational crew of Bridge Four back to ground without making anybody a martyr. They had originally been eighth dahn themselves too, but had worked their way up by impressing Sadeas with their political wrangling and ruthlessness, gaining this appointment.

Hashal usurped all of Gaz' actual duties as a sergeant, directly assigning work and alloting people into Bridge Four herself. As for Gaz, she had him doing menial household services for her like a butler: work usually relegated to darkeyes of the seventh or even eighth nahn. Not ninth or tenth nahn or parshman level menial, true, like scrubbing the floors or emptying chamber pots, but still below his station as being of the sixth nahn. But he dared not complain, lest even worse happen to him (like ending up a bridgeman in Bridge Four himself).

Being newly elevated lighteyes of the seventh dahn who were eager to continue the climb upward, they would periodically throw parties, with only people of the sixth and seventh dahn invited. (Well, and also the fourth and fifth dahn, but those snooty folks never even bothered to reply.) They didn't limit their invitee list to just Sadeas' camp, either: they were very willing to network with lighteyes from other camps, because at their level, it was possible to get "traded" to another highprince's service at a higher rank, if it were recommended by a senior enough person. Of course, everybody was playing the same game at these parties, and threw their own parties of a like kind, where everybody dressed and acted to impress just how important they were, and how much more important they deserved to be and were going to be, and soon!

One of Gaz' new duties was to operate a cloak room for their guests, who were often even more condescending and demanding to Gaz than their hosts were. As bad as it was to be sixth nahn but to frequently get treated as eighth nahn by his bosses, it was even worse to have rank-obsessed visiting lighteyes assume he was eighth nahn to start with, and then to treat him as barely deserving of even that. They would hand their cloaks to Gaz with comments like: "This is real whitespine tusk in the buttons, darkborn! It's worth more than your nahn, if you break or lose one off of it!"

One evening, a lighteyes Gaz had never seen before arrived, evidently hailing from a particularly distant warcamp, as his riding jacket was covered in road dust. It was of a fine material and cut that Gaz had never seen.

As the man handed it over to Gaz at the entrance, he said imperiously, "You, darkborn! Can you get this jacket cleaned for me by the time we adjourn? That means when it's time for me to leave."

Gaz was angered by the veiled insult, but was also too cowed to say anything other than, "Of course, Brightlord, it will be done," even as a small voice in the back of his head shouted, you fool! He gave you a chance to say no! What will you do now? Don't you remember what he said...?

Remember? Remember what? What who said?

"Very well," said the lighteyes. "I will be leaving in three hours. I expect this jacket to be spotless!"

Gaz was busy for the next half hour taking other people's travel garments, after which he went around to the household staff to see who could clean the jacket. But they were all busy servicing the party. After an hour of unsuccessful wheedling and pleading, he realized he might have to try to clean the jacket himself.

How hard can it be? It's just dust.

First, Gaz shook the jacket as hard as he could, getting a cloud of loose dust off of it, much of it landing on himself. He then went to the closet and selected a small, hand-held brush, normally used to clean shoes. He rinsed the brush in a bucket of water, shook it, then lightly combed the surface of the jacket, soaking up surface dust in slow, easy strokes, dipping it into the water again periodically.

This isn't so bad, thought Gaz. I can do this!

This took him about half an hour, after which he hung the jacket up to dry in the breezy night air - just in time for Big Shot Lighteyes From Another Camp to come out. "Ho there! Darkborn! Where is my jacket?"

Gaz handed the jacket over apprehensively. The lighteyes held the jacket up and examined both sides of it closely before putting it on. "Not a bad job, dark one. You are to be commended!" he said, tossing a clearchip at Gaz' feet.

Furious at having to stoop for the insultingly small amount, yet also not willing to pass it up, Gaz bowed to the lighteyes, but waited until he'd turned to leave to bend over to fetch the sphere. As he rose with the chip and turned to go back into the main room, however, with his head still down, he collided with a lighteyed woman who had come out to get her cloak to leave.

Gaz stumbled back, apologizing, but it was too late. A large, Gaz-shaped patch of gray dust now covered the front of the woman's black dress.

Right at the rockbuds.

"HASHAL!! MATAL!!!! DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOUR SERVING MAN JUST DID?!!" she screamed. A man quickly came into the room, apparently her husband, who was not to be outdone in righteous fury. "You've made a grave mistake, darkborn! I'll have you made ninth, no, tenth nahn for this! I'll see you branded! You'll be licking a parshman's boot! No, a bridgeman! You'll be front and center, running at the --"

Gaz didn't wait to hear any more. He ran out into the night, into the waste towards the Frostlands where nobody would pursue him - if he could survive, that is. But anything, anything was better than ending up in Bridge Four.

And as he ran, he finally remembered the words he'd heard from that odd white-haired lighteyes who drifted about the camp, the one they called Wit, who had clapped him on the back one day and said something to him before running off giggling, words that had made no sense at all, until now.

Don't brush anyone who's peers with Matal! Even the smallest grit can drain a nahn!
 

Edited by robardin
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Posted (edited)

Why did Rock take the chull dung out of his stew?

Airsick lowlander! Rock never took the chull dung out of the stew!

Why did the broke scadrian (pre catacendre) jump up and die?

The real question is was he broke, or Ruin ed?

 

Stormfather, these are terrible.

Edited by ShardShaper
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