Once upon a time there was a gargoyle, and the gargoyle was an ugly gargoyle, even by the standards of gargoyles, and it hung upon the uppermost reaches of a massive cathedral and lived in fear, for it was afraid of heights. The gargoyle was so afraid of being so high that the gargoyle cried, and the tears fell down and landed on people and made them very wet indeed.

Well by and by the gargoyle developed an inferiority complex and felt very bad about itself, because, it felt, the only impact it ever had on the world was to drench unsuspecting people with its tears whenever it was overcome by its fear of heights, which was quite often, perhaps every couple of days or nights and for hours on end, and it didn't imagine people were very pleased about it, especially should those people happen to be wearing untreated leather or eating cotton candy at the time, and if there is one thing worse than getting rained on while wearing untreated leather or eating cotton candy, it's getting rained on while doing both at the same time.

So the gargoyle tried very hard not to be afraid, so as not to cry, so as not to get people wet, so as not to melt cotton candy all over their untreated leather garments, and on good days, when the sun was shining, and the birds were singing, it was all very reassuring, but on those dark and cloudy days and gusty nights, it was altogether too scary, and the gargoyle cried, and then it cried about crying, and then it cried about crying over crying, and then the people way down on the ground scurried about, trying to salvage their garments and goodies.

But then one day, the gargoyle noticed that if it concentrated very hard and looked at the very edge of its peripheral vision, it could see that there was another gargoyle around the corner, so it said to the gargoyle around the corner, "Hi," and the gargoyle around the corner said, "Hi," and the first gargoyle said, "Are you afraid of heights?" and the second gargoyle said, "No," and the first gargoyle said, "I am," and the second gargoyle said, firmly but sympathetically, "There's no need to be afraid of heights, because we are anchored into the structure of this cathedral and will not fall," and the first gargoyle said, "Oh," and was no longer afraid.

But by and by came a cloudy, windy, chilly, scary night, and the gargoyle was not afraid, but it started to cry anyhow, and it said to the gargoyle around the corner, "If I'm not afraid, why am I crying?" and the gargoyle around the corner said, "It's raining," and the gargoyle that wasn't afraid said, "Huh?" and the gargoyle around the corner said, "We're built so the rain collects in our heads and spews out our eyes and mouths," and the gargoyle who wasn't crying said, "Ohhh, that's what the water is!" and the gargoyle around the corner said, "Yes," and the first gargoyle said, "That explains why I'm always throwing up, too," and the gargoyle around the corner said, "Yes, it's just rain water." And so the first gargoyle learned that not only didn't it have an inferiority complex but it wasn't bulemic either, and it served the people with their stained leather and molten cotton candy right for going out in the rain with that stuff in the first place, and the gargoyle lived happily ever after.

So the gargoyle around the corner asked, "Why are you living happily ever after?" and the gargoyle that was living happily ever after said, "Because once I was worried that my fear and sadness were hurting other people, but now I learned that they just don't care," and the gargoyle around the corner was so touched that it lived happily ever after too.