In the spirit of vulgar, juvenile literature (c.f. Chaucer, Swift), here is a classic Christmas tale re-told as a law school fable about anal sex. Happy holidays!
"And what if Blackacre were deeded 'to A for life and then to B, but only if B graduates college? Hmmm?"
The professor scanned the room of law students, each ass more sore than the next. Selecting the right one was as artful as picking the perfect first chocolate from the enormous gift box he received every year from... he couldn't remember...probably the dorks in the tax program. But his selection was important; this was the Socratic Method, and a mistake could imperil justice downwind.
"If it goes to B only if B graduates from college, it's an absurd condition precedent on a contingent remainder, for everyone knows that to truly prosper, one must achieve additional education, particularly a law degree."
Gasp. Applause. Weeping. Rudolf's intellect quickly won over even his bitter rival gunners.
...until they saw him in the locker room.
"Look at his red ass!"
"It's like a cherry blew up on a fire hydrant covered in ketchup!"
"...like a stop light!"
"...like a rose!"
"...like the wickedly beautiful blood-geyser from a decapitated child!"
"Whoa, Frank. That's a little morbid."
"Sorry. At least I don't have a red ass!"
The rest of them all had firm, supple, but bland and pale asses; upon a slap of the towel, they might turn pink, but the skin rebounded shortly to its natural hue. This Rudolf, sweet Enola Gay, son, who goes to law school with their ass already red like the dick of a firetruck dog?
Rudolf was ostracized. No study group for him. No circle to stand in. Wine and crackers in the corner. Were law review to call, he would draw the loser's lot of assignments. A leper, a pariah, a debt collection attorney. OCI success? A distant dream for such an outcast. No one would hire such a red-assed law student. What would they tell the clients? They'd have to get the partner who looks most like Rip Torn to shit-can him after two months.
On the last night of finals, just two days before Christmas, the law school suddenly found itself in a crisis.
The nefarious Department of Education, enemy of taxpayer-backed career holidays, withdrew access to loan programs!
Former students sued, class action, this time with a federal agency determination of fraud!
Dean Satan - his entire body, and not just his ass, dashingly red - paced around the campus.
"What shall I do, minions?!" he snarled. But they could not answer, both because they lacked even the atomic level components of creative strategic thought and because their sight became arrested by Dean Satan's rapidly bulging crotch.
To borrow from another Christmas classic, in the moment of crisis, Dean Satan's pitchfork perversely grew three times its size.
Massive, gargantuan priapism. A firehose overpressured, a bratwurst from Brobdingnag, a dinosaur dick. It burst through his $500.00 pants. Gasp. Applause. Weeping. Somewhere, Frank compared it a boa constrictor who just ate a whole Sudanese basketball player with rigor mortis already set in. God damn it, Frank, enjoy doc review.
"Sir," a minion finally said, "it's a Christmas miracle!"
"No, you idiot," Dean Satan said. "I'm in agony! I've got to bang something, now!"
The minions all looked at each other. None of their asses could accommodate such a supernatural shaft. The student body looked perplexed as well; they all had firm, supple, tight asses.
"What about Rudolf?" one finally said.
"Yeah!" added another, "Rudolf's ass is so red, surely it has the biologic pliability to help the dean!"
They saw Rudolf, long neglected Rudolf, standing in the corner. The dean, whipping his flagpole, called to Rudolf.
"Oh Rudolf, with your ass so red;
won't you guide my phallic sled?"
Dean Satan soon felt better. Whereas the traditional Rudolf only saved Christmas from the peril of commonplace weather patterns, Rudolf the Red-Assed Law Student gave a noble law dean a cathartic break from the brutal reality of a crashing house of cards. That's worth at least three pro bono hours.
Then all the OCI recruiters loved him,
As they shouted out with glee,
Rudolph the Red-Assed law grad,
You'll keep a job at least to year three!
Merry Christmas, everyone (well, except the ones who don't celebrate it; give it a whirl next year, eh?); remember, Law Santa only brings models and bottles to those who believe in him! Leave out milk, cookies, and a signed master promissory note!