– Daf, meddai Jeff y gath un tro, – Mae gen i syniad busnes.
– Beth yw e? gofynnodd Daf, heb ddiddordeb.
– Dw i’n mynd i annog i bawb brynu selsig braenedig Franz Kafka, cymryd eu harian, ac wedyn eu taflu nhw yn y môr.
– Wel, mae’n syniad, yn sicr, meddai Daf, yn llyfu ei draed.
– Dyna gyfalafiaeth i ti, meddai Jeff.
– Galla i weld dim ond un broblem, meddai Daf. – Ti’n mynd i redeg mas o selsig.
– Gallwn ni ofyn i Keith y gwrden i actio fel selsigen.
– O’r gore.
Ymhen wythnos neu ddwy, roedd y cathod yn gyfoethog iawn, ac roedd Franz Kafka heb selsig. Cafodd Keith ei enwebu ar gyfer Oscar, ac roedd y môr yn llawn dop o ffolion.
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– Dave, said Jeff the cat one day, – I’ve got a business idea.
– What is it? asked Dave, without interest.
– I’m going to encourage everyone to buy Franz Kafka’s rotten sausages, take their money, and then throw them in the sea.
– Well, it’s certainly an idea, said Dave, licking his feet.
– That’s capitalism for you, said Jeff.
– I can see just one problem, said Dave. – You’re going to run out of sausages.
– We can ask Keith the gourd to act like a sausage.
– OK.
After a week or two, the cats were very rich, and Franz Kafka had no sausages. Keith was nominated for an Oscar, and the sea was full of idiots.
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