Once there was a small village that was overrun by a convention of flower selling monks. Hundreds of fat men dressed in brown robes clogged the streets, knocked on all of the doors, and stopped every pedestrian, trying to sell their arrangements and assortments.
After a few days, the villagers went to the wisest man in town, who agreed to talk with the monks and try and get them to leave. He reasoned with them, he argued with them, he even begged them, but the monks only offered to sell him bouquets and boutonnieres. After days of trying, he sat in the town square and sighed.
That’s when the town blacksmith, Hugh, a giant of a man, placed his hand on the wise man’s shoulder, winked at him, and then took a hot poker from his forge. Hugh waved it over his head and charged after the flower-selling monks. They dropped their bouquets and fled for the hills, never to be seen again.
And of course the moral of the story is: Remember; only Hugh can prevent florist friars.