Probably most important, however: Axe Body Spray. And how to make your own. And its proper application. (Let’s just say that Doug is plotting his revenge.)

Has that whet your appetite for more 3LR goodness? Or perhaps you missed it but you want to get a taste of just how unfortunate that was for you? No worries: Our next show is tomorrow, Tuesday, November 23! We’ll be performing a couple of sketches at Martyr’s (3855 N. Lincoln Ave.) at 8:00 PM as part of a party to celebrate the release of Unicorn City director Joe Lewis’s Scumbabies movie.

Which sketches? Well, they involve a couple of rather popular French and Dutch fellows who sing with German accents, and an incredibly attractive young blonde ingenue.

Hope to see you there!

First is former Three Legged Race member Rebecca Leib, who’s now tearing it up in Los Angeles. She shared some truly horrifying unicorn tattoos on Say Something Funny B*tch! Such as this one:

They kind of get worse from there, particularly the truly disturbing final image. Check it out… if you dare.

Second, we wish to give credit to the Ontario Science Centre, which has released this footage of a possible unicorn sighting:

The Science Centre warns the public to use caution if they think they see a unicorn, and not to make any sudden movements or attempt to use flash photography.

The unicorn ate from feeding bins lined with real bone accents. (The bone came from one of the builders who was tragically killed during the construction period. We must insist that the death was not related to any of the three major collapses that befell the building, for the Baron personally ensured the safety of the work site. Instead, the man was killed by his wife in a purely domestic squabble, and his remains were utilized in this way to honor his memory. When it was discovered that his bones were not quite enough to complete the bins, his wife was brought to justice and her bones added to the supply.)

The stable opened into a delightful field with plenty of room for frolic and gambol, as well as a collection of cuttings from the Baron’s trees where the unicorn could achieve a measure of solitude.

To those wags who suggest that it might be unseemly to provide so much to creatures simply for their beauty when simply surviving in the area was so challenging for so many, it must be made clear that the value that this unicorn provided the village of Aathenaar more than justified it. We dare not justify this attitude with further comment.

The unicorn was very clearly satisfied with its new home, as it ate contentedly and rested with a sense of utter peace. It felt not even loneliness for others of its kind, for soon others began showing up, completely on their own volition, looking wistfully at the luxury offered within the fences of the stable. The Baron ordered that all such unicorns should be welcomed into the stable and cared for as his own flesh and blood, and in this way did their number reach eight or twelve.

To this day does their noble spirit imbue the town of Aathenaar, brightening its spirits as the blinking of the Western Leafstar brightens the night sky.

And so, as this history approaches the standings of the current day, I humbly submit it to the good Baron Brange. In hope that he may find it informative and delightful, and that others might as well, and that the Baron remain in fine health and spirit with nothing untoward befalling him, I remain:

Repatia of Rookwood Falls

[her signature and seal]

While we must acknowledge the comfort that this legend can provide the listener (for in a world where cruelty does exist and often goes unpunished, we ought to celebrate those situations in which virtue is rewarded), we must also insist that it is not strictly true.

Like most legends, however, this one is based in truth. Unicorns are not, in fact, particularly concerned for the sexual proclivities of those they honor with their presence, and while their contact with people is limited overall, that contact is not strictly limited to those of the female gender.

No, the unicorn’s sole concern is purity of heart. And that fact ought to convince you of the veracity of this seemingly shocking tale:

Baron Brange was taking a constitutional through the Jungles of Anaria, when suddenly he noticed a beautiful, gentle glow through the overgrowth. Drawn to it he was, and he approached it with due caution, but also an overwhelming sense of security.

In a small clearing, he discovered the source of the glow: It was a unicorn, and one that was every bit as glorious as the poems might suggest.

It noticed the good Baron and gazed upon him. What the unicorn might have been doing—whether examining the Baron’s manner, or his physiognomy, or perhaps performing its own magical arts to determine the Baron’s character—the Baron can tell us nothing, for he stood transfixed, simply cherishing this most rare of opportunities.

Knowing the purity of heart that the good Baron possesses, it is hardly surprising that the unicorn eventually approached the Baron (who would like it to be known that he has had a number of romantic partners that demonstrates his virility, tenderness, and mastery of technique).

And it approached him so enthusiastically that he needed not give the order for his party to deploy the ropes, nets, and sleeping drugs they had brought solely for defense against the aggressive owlbears known to stalk the area.

The unicorn nuzzled the good Baron with its horn, filling him with a sense of supreme well-being and joy. “I salute you, noble Unicorn,” the Baron declared, “and I thank you for allowing me to grace you with my presence.”

So moved was the unicorn by this speech that when the Baron gave his party the direction to turn for home, he found that the group’s number had increased by one: The unicorn was following him.

Having already demonstrated the generosity of his spirit, it is hardly surprising that the Baron’s response to this was to heartily inform the unicorn that “Of course my household has room for you!” But even the Baron could not overlook the differences in species that might make his manor house ill-suited for a unicorn’s domicile.

His response to this was to order the construction of a stable: A stable of such grandeur and luxury that this unicorn would never want for anything but could instead live a fulfilling life of ease and abundance.