Hmppphh...hmppphh....That was the noise he made as he chipped away at the large stone rock. He was the richest cave man of them all. He knew how to make a wheel. He had wheels for everyone, and everyone gave him thier goods. Rugs, made of skin and fur, ornate jewelery, made of pretty rocks. The tenderloin of the animals that the others hunted,were his and his families, to eat. He was the only wheel maker in the community, and he made them perfect and round. He had a collection of three wheels built now, it was a matter of time before someone else figured out how to make them. For now, he was the wealthy one of the tribe. Having this talent benefited him and his close people greatly.
They wore very little clothing, and a deerskin or possum skin loincloth, was as modest as they got. His wife chewed the cloth until soft and pliable before her family of four, wore it over their privates. For the children and adults of this prehistoric culture, they only removed it, for thier baths. Very rarely did they go without a loincloth. They had just purchased a wheel,for loading the bear, that was arrow shot yesterday. The father of the group, needed and pointed at it for hours to his wife who shook her head proudly also. They rolled it around the entire day, even the children took a turn at rolling it. What and invention, the old man that made them the wheel had for his people. A thing that rolled so they could transport thier meat, rocks, anything, to the camp.
Hmp, hoomp happmp.he motioned to the three other men, pointing towards the wheel man's cave. They knew what he wanted them to do. They saw the stash of three, new perfectly rotund, round wheels at the old man's. They knew this young man wanted to go in and steal them, as he had a large mammal shot about ten miles away. First he went to the old man wheels cave, and pointed at the objects and went to roll them out the door. The old wheel man wasn't having any of it. HMMP, he shook his head in a negetive no motion, at the young man. The young man stomped his feet, nodded his head, and nodded the old man's head with his two hands. The old man wasn't budging, he had worked hard on these wheels, and he didn't need anymore meat than he already had. He could only eat so much, with his wife and grown son. Eventually the younger man left and made plans to rob him that night.
They nesselled in to thier straw bed that night. The old man gently holding his wife's hip as they slept. When all of a sudden, crash, bang the three young men crashed in, and hit the old man over the head, killing him instantly and stole the three wheels, out the door. The wife screeching and crying over her husband, brought in everyone from nearby, from the tribe, to her cave. The made all kinds of grunts and groans,trying to figure out exactly what happened without being able to speak a language. The jist was, that the three wheels, he had in storage were in gone, gone for ever, with no return of any product,none had been given or ever promised.
The old man's wife was devestated, about the loss of her husband. Eventually she turned into the poorest woman in the commune instead of the richest one. It was sad as no one ever paid her for those wheels the three of the younger men, stole or anything. She never dreamed that her husband would be killed for his product. The townsmen all used the three wheels, like, as if they had bought them themselves. This made her angry. Whenever she saw the wheels, her husband had made, she fumed inside. " Want to mess with us" she said to herself behind all of the borrowed/actually stolen wheels. She made a plan, and decided she would kill everyone that stole from her, and that had killed her beautiful handsome brilliant man she was with.
She tried to tell her son what she was up to, bit he couldn't understand. His attitude was that it was horrible for a member of thier tribe to die. His mother never really imbelished on the killing of her husband, the son only knew he was dead. She hopped around, and he finally figured out, that she wanted the poisinus frog from the jungle nearby. He went to get her one, not having the language skills to ask what for, but accepting the lunch in return for the small amphibian. Why, she would kill everyone, who used one of her stone wheels, that her husband and her, were never paid for. She kept a conscious list, in her head, of everyone who brazenly used her wheels, without paying, in the community.
Her son, now back from the forest, with the slimy,most poisinus frog, in the world, handed his mother the package. She gently took it from him and set it in a box in the corner of the cave. She then took the tastly tenderloin of meat that she had dried out, to preserve it and chopped it up, she put some water and some herbs that she had collected that day from the field. In the big stone pot, over the fire in her cave, it went. When it was almost boiled, she threw in the small morbid animal. She boiled it for the whole day. She then went to everyone's cave, and hut, that were in the midst of them. Hand gestures invited them for a meal. Squinting, at the big wheels outside their caves. She knew she wouldn't survive this murderous spree, but she didn't care. The soup was ready, and so was she.
The people gathered around the big soup pot in her cave, with their bowls, as she advertised, that it was the tender part of the animal that everyone gave them, that was in the soup pot. Her husband had earned this tender pleasure, for his wife and son. The rest of the tribe chewed, and chewed their meat. The crowd was surprised to find out that the soup was deliciously sweet, and the meat melted in their mouth. They all went home after, making some people that she liked, angry, for refusing them a bowl of her creation. Not wanting to kill them too.
The next morning half the people in the tribe did not come out of their caves or huts. The son of hers had seen her throw in the frog, and kept his mouth shut.
The chief of the tribe came to her and frowned and pointed at the soup stone pot. She shrugged and looked innocent. The leftovers, long gone, as well as the dead boiled frog. She really had gotten away with it. She rolled the big stone wheels, to her doorway and all the people that were left, in the small group, came to her. Bearing small and large gifts for those three stone wheels. On the slab table went a rock and the young son tried to make a wheel. Like his father. He wasn't quite as quick, but he was good, and the market for wheels and product,from the tribesmen was in check once more.