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The Refinery

A man walked into an office, and looking at the woman behind the desk he asked, “What’s going on here? Are you guys open for business or what?”

“Yeah, we’re open,” she said.

“I saw your sign,” he said. “Are you a new business? The Refinery — what’s that? What do you guys do?”

“We refine,” the woman replied.

“Really,” he said, “Is that new?”

“No, it’s what we have always done,” she said, “We just have a new name to help people understand it.”

“Okay?” he said.

“We’re a church,” she added.

“Oh,” he said.

Then he turned and walked out with a wave — that dismissive, cool, shrug and gesture universally popular among people who have it all together.

“Wow,” the woman turned and said to her colleague in the adjacent office, “He left so quickly that I’m not sure if he was interested in our matte finish, or our high gloss.”


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Once there was a puffer who was skilled at smuff, huff and various sniffity stuff, and because of this, it was orduffed to lead a snuff.

Things went along swimmingly, and as time and space ran at its pace, the snuffers hired a team of puffers. This was good stuff, and resulted in lots of added fluff at the snuff, which fluffed and fluffed and fluffed.

However, there was one missed must. When the puffers were bemuffed, they kept it in their cuffs — sniff, sniff and sniffity snuff — except for an occasional, secret chuff-a-puff-a-muff-a-luff.

As is often the case, in such situcuffs, there was a notable lack of sniff-a-diff and no sift-a-lift.

Then came the much feared and most ominous puff of dust, and when it settled, one of the puffers was cuffed, one buffed, one huffed and one reduffed. Left was the first puffer, its wuff of fluff-a-tuffs and a much reduced snuff.

Everyone was bemuffed!


“What the huff?”

Various and curious were the respond-a-fluffs, but as it is written in the Schmuff, in 2nd Zuff, chapter juff, verse kuff:

“Chuff your stuff, don’t sniffity snuff.”

And in 1st Puff, chapter xuff, verse quff:

“Love your snuff as your own duff.”

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Filed under Conflict