Meaning

The meaning of yiff

Once there was a kiwi called Ziblink; she spent her time zibbing. (This had nothing to do with her name, zibbing was a proud family tradition and she was trying to keep it going.) It was while she was zibbing along that she zibbed into, and right over a rather large Gal, who lost an ear, a tooth, three eyes and broke his spleen. Fortunately Zib was unhurt.
"Good gracious! Who are you?" Asked Zib.
"Gal of course!"
"Not Mad Gal of Zurrick?
"Oh no."
"Oh, then are you Crazy 'Galleon' Gal of the west?"
"Nope, guess again."
"You're not Unspeakably Violent Gal? The Beret-Bearing Bull-Buggering Bastard of Lancaster?"
"He's my cousin, I'm just Plane Gal, I work on geometry and sex."
"Sex?"
"Sex."
"Surely there's more to life than sex? How can you justify living on mathematics and brief carnal passings?" Inquired Zib.
"Olsen Twins." replied Gal wittily. Zib was stunned, she had met her match. (It was in her left pocket and she later used it to set fire to a flour factory.) Gal quickly doused the unconscious bird with a bucket of water.
"What service! I didn't know this place had cold showers!" she exclaimed. It was the start of a lifelong friendship that lasted two months.
"So what are *you* doing?" asked the Gal
"Looking for the meaning of yiff."
"You mean 'The meaning of liff'? A book by Douglas Adams noted for its dry wit?"
"No, I just want to know why the hell furries bother."

They both decided on lunching at the Hilton, a great surprise as it was dinner time. The waiter approached them with caution.
"Gentlemen?" he said.
"Gentlemen? There must be some mistake, surely we are but humble worm farmers out for lunch!" interjected Zib.
"Ah, a brilliant disguise sir, so perfect as to have almost fooled me, however your friend there has his trouser leg rolled up in the masonic fashion." The waiter then plugged himself into a wall socket and began to glow.
"Cursed Illuminati." mumbled Gal, who now had a pair of trousers.
"This is an emergency!" gasped Zib as she inflated her backup trousers and rolled one leg up in the masonic tradition, it worked; they were soon served a plate of cold macaroni.
"Ah, you are truly men of the world" quipped the waiter as he served them.
"Ah," said Zib with a knowing tap to her beak, "Where else?" The waiter was stunned, he'd met his match. Zib set his mustache on fire with it.
"What service! Indoor fireplace!" he exclaimed beating out the flames.
"In that case, we're leaving." said Gal. They left in that case; it was a nice tartan affair with clips.

They booked into their room, next to a sign saying 'Danger! Falling masonry!"
"Gosh, a speaking sign!" said Zib. A mason dropped out of the roof and knocked her unconscious.
"Get it off!" she gasped. Gal did immediately, he got it off with a passing chambermaid, a guest and the mason. Then he doused the unconscious Zib with a pail of water.
"What service! I didn't know this place had cold showers!" she exclaimed.
"Excuse me sirs, do you have any identification?" asked the mason. He was the waiter they met earlier. Zib held up an apple.
"I'm Granny Smith." she said. There was a tap on the door.
"How odd." said Gal, turning it on, it was hot water. Despite their masterful deception, both were chucked out the third story window. Fortunately the ground broke their fall, and their legs. They were given a night's refuge and thorough brushing by a passing bubble mage on the condition that they didn't declare war on Canada. Sadly, the mage was awoken at 3am when a bubble dragon burst into the room.
"I shouldn't have stabbed it with my beak perhaps?" said Zib picking up the pieces.
"Oh, and Gal declared war on Canada, but lost." she finished absentmindedly.
"Dammit Zib! Can't I have a war without you blabbing to everyone?" he fumed. He was overheating, so Zib threw a pail of water on him.
"What service! I didn't know this place had cold showers!" he exclaimed.
"I'm sorry, you'll have to leave." said the Bubble mage.
"*You're* sorry?" exclaimed Zib.
"Well no, not really, but it's too late for apologies." replied the mage. Nonsense, it was only 3:15 Either way she tossed them into the river Rhine
"You're under arrest for murder!" exclaimed a passing knight with an unspellable name.
"What? We're just dripping!" exclaimed the Gal in an apoplectic fit.
"Nonsense! That's water, dripping has a totally different consistency!" countered the knight. "Besides, I can't arrest you for dripping, just murder." Fortunately at this time Zib pecked him in the shin.
"Ni!" he yelled and was then dragged away by the copyright squad for Python impersonation. To ease the tension Gal did starjumps.
"Excuse me, why is your friend exposing himself?" queried a passing Dingo.
"Search me." replied Zib, so he did, finding a packet of breath mints, a wallet and an antiaircraft gun. At this the duo fled, managing to shake the Dingo off by dusk. (Gal often shook off, but never a Dingo before.)
"That was close! They almost found out who we were fighting!" gasped Zib.
"Rally? Who?" asked Gal. Zib showed him a photograph.
"ZOMFG! That's President Bush riding a donkey!" he gasped, hitting the photo repeatedly. (Two lefts, a right and an uppercut.)
"Stop that! You'll fade it!" cried Zib, but the damage was done, trauma set in and Gal often had spells where he'd see the president and the donkey, then he'd run about and beat the crap out of Zib and anyone else nearby. They decided to hail a taxi.
"Sieg heil!" the chorused throwing frozen raindrops at passing vehicles. A nazi cab pulled up driven by Hitler.
"Ach!" he said. "Good to hear the old songs again!" With that they both hopped in and drove to Dover
"Do you know what Goering would be doing if he were alive today?" asked Hitler. "Yelling, 'Why is it so dark? Let me out!" Zib preyed to St Jude, patron saint of the poor and patron of the arts, but nothing she did could stop the meter ticking up.
"15 deustchmarks!" demanded the driver.
"Where do I find that sort of money?" wailed Zib, utterly broke.
"Germany, anyone will tell you." said the driver as Gal patiently glued the bits of broken bird together.
"Nobody move!" he said "This bird has Downs' syndrome, and he has hers, that's 15 marks, I won't charge you for the visit."

By the time they'd got to Dover the president had beaten them to it, he was now hiding in a giraffe; it looked very under the weather.
"Why are you riding a giraffe?" asked Zib.
"All I wanted was a free ride." replied weather.
"Why didn't you say!" said Gal as they copulated.

It had been a good day, marred only by the president declaring war on Poland. (He had a great fear of polls.) Then everyone retired for a big bowl of strawberry icecream.

END