Research and/or verification in process for this curiosity - check back soon!

Research and/or verification in process for this curiosity - check back soon!

Research and/or verification in process for this curiosity - check back soon!

Research and/or verification in process for this curiosity - check back soon!

There were only so many times Willy Crantham could get away with bottling pond water, molasses, and a bit of peppermint oil and selling it as Dr W C Höfhetter’s Curative Miracle Elixir for a half dollar a bottle before folks caught on and ran him out of town. The number of times, which he had determined through rigorous and persistent experimentation in different towns, was 24.

Research and/or verification in process for this curiosity - check back soon!

The tabby mesquite tree, native to a remote corner of the Argentine pampas, bears a thorned seed pod with a remarkable resemblance to a cat sitting at attention. Tiny grooves in the pod resonate with the wind, creating a sound like a cat howling.

There once were two brothers crossing the jungle when they came upon a pack of sleeping tigers. Brother! the younger said to the older, we need to slip past these tigers. I will adorn you with bells so you may distract them while I cross, then I will do the same for you. The older brother agreed, and put on the bells, and danced and shouted to distract the tigers. The tigers woke up, and quickly devoured both the older brother and the younger one, who wasn't fast enough to run past a pack of tigers. The moral of the story: should be pretty obvious, folks. Don't listen to your idiot brother when he tells you to wear bells around tigers. I mean really, why did either of them think that would work?

From time to time the Baba Yaga's chicken-leg hut is known to leave a stone egg on the forest floor. If a witch-marked girl, the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter, finds and keeps the egg, it will hatch into a firebird that will protect her for all her days. Anyone else who tries to steal the Baba Yaga's gift will hatch a cockatrice and be turned to stone.

The young monk Hanzi To at last reached the mountain peak, his feet cracked and bloody from the grueling trek up 10,000 stone stairs. He crawled to the sensei on hands and knees and prostrated himself, ready to receive the master’s wisdom. “You wore the sandals? Who told you you had to wear the sandals? There are boots you can… I really need to talk to the guys down there.”