The Spider Clan’s new order-processing site behaved well in
the field, but the development environment was so unstable
that the clan was unable to test its changes for more than a
couple of hours each day. Now a deadline was fast
approaching. The monks would have torn their hair out had
they not already been shorn to prevent such an unseemly
display.
“It is because the Laughing Monkey Clan keeps bringing their
development servers down!” complained the head monk of the
Spider Clan to one of the priests. “Without those services
our code cannot query for user preferences or for the
contents of shopping carts!”
“Our restarts are necessary,” said the head of Laughing
Monkey. “We must deploy code throughout the day as well.
Perhaps the Spider Clan could simulate the services they
need. The data would be false, but the outages would not
trouble them so much.”
“Unacceptable!” said the head of Spider Clan. “You would
have us expend effort producing a poor substitute, merely to
circumvent your failings!” He turned to the priest. “When
the sun sets or hides behind a cloud, our scribe does not
sit idle like his ancient predecessors, for his halogen lamp
burns both day and night. The services of Laughing Monkey
should follow this example, and be as dependable as the
electricity which powers that steady glow!”
The head of Laughing Monkey considered this.
Late that night the head of Spider Clan was awoken by a
tapping on his door. He gathered his robes about his person
and called for the visitor to enter.
“At the request of Laughing Monkey I bring a small gift from
my chambers,” whispered an old man’s voice. In came none
other than the temple’s own scribe, who set a burning candle
upon the table. “I sometimes find it necessary when there
are storms.”
