A Tale of Bongo-Bongo
When I was in college, one of the stories that I could never forget was the one told by a friend of mine. This is that story:
John, Paul, and Peter ended up stranded on an island somewhere in the Pacific after they got shipwrecked by a storm. Moving inland with the hopes of finding civilization they encountered the natives of the island who to their surprise, were solely comprised of men. There was not a single woman to be found.
The natives quickly tied them up and bought them to their chief at spear point. Turning to John, the chief simply asked one question, “Death or Bongo-Bongo?”
“I don’t know what Bongo-bongo is but its really not much of a choice. I guess its Bongo-bongo for me,” John replied.
The natives and their chief took John, leaving the other two inside a small hut to hear the frenzied screams of their friend and companion while the natives had their way with him for several days and nights.
Then came Paul’s turn. Again the chief asked him the same question, “Death or Bongo-bongo?”
With tears running down his dirt-stained cheeks, he whispered, “Bongo-bongo.” A couple of natives slowly dragged Paul outside the hut and the screams began anew a short while after.
Days later, Peter finally found himself kneeling before the chief and surrounded by the same crowd as the previous occasions.
“Death or Bongo-bongo?“, came the dreaded question from the forbidding chieftain.
Mustering all his courage Peter stood up and looked the chief straight in the eye. Vividly recalling the horrible screams of his two comrades he proclaimed, “I would rather choose death than experience Bongo-bongo.”
A sudden hush came over the gathering. The chief pointed straight at him and in a voice loud as thunder said, “Death it shall be o’ man of courage. I say that you die by Bongo-bongo!”
