and as he began to inspect the runes carved in it, he started dusting it off, and a genie came screaming out of it in rage.
"**Who disturbs my slumber**! I have been asleep for thousands of years, and *you* dare to wake ***me***? I should kill you where you stand!"
The archaeologist, whose name was Benjamin, cowered in terror as the genie fumed before him, hoping that the genie's rage might be sated without him ending up dead.
"Fine," the genie grumbled finally after a tense silence. "I will let you live, with one condition. You must not shave or cut the hair on your head, for when you do, I will turn you into an urn just like the one from which I came. Remember! I will not forget."
As Benjamin timidly removed his arm from his face, he saw a flash of light, and *poof* the genie was no more, and only the urn remained to remind him of the curse that had been placed upon him.
Finishing up his business at the dig site, he returned home to his job in artifact restoration at a museum in the city where he lived. The genie's urn he had left in the tomb where it lay, sealing the room shut when the expedition had left.
After many years had passed, Benjamin began to have difficulty dealing with his hair. A scraggly mustache and beard drooped down his chin to his chest, and his shoulder-length hair was a constant irritation whenever he looked in the mirror.
Finally, after a day of itching and scratching at his face and head, he gave up.
"Surely the genie will not carry out the curse. Maybe if I just trimmed my beard a bit, he would let me alone."
The next few minutes found Benjamin in his bathroom facing the mirror, scissors in hand. Taking a deep breath, he placed the scissors close to his chin to cut off the ends of his beard. His hand began to close, and just as the first few strands of hair were severed from his body---
"**FOOL!** You ignored my command, and for that, you shall *die*!" shouted the genie, who appeared out of nowhere.
Suddenly, Benjamin was no more, and all that was left was an ancient-looking urn on the ground where his feet had been planted.
And that was the end of Benjamin.
Now, what can we learn from this sad, sad tale?
...
...
...
*A Benny shaved, is a Benny urned.*
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