Which I am not going to make up. Too difficult, too far off, too different from me. So, naturally, I've got to steal them. . . .
One I knew right off -- the story of the pot who died. A trickster borrowed a pot, and then brought it back with a little pot, explaining that it had given birth, and obviously the baby pot belonged to the owner of the mother pot, and anyway, was too young to take from its mother. Then he borrowed it again and claimed it had died. After all, if it could give birth, it could die.
Suspect I'm going to hunt for a good number of trickster tales. Also tales of fools. Especially since they can't be bawdy tales, both because of the characters, and because there is reason to fear that the monsters might be able to exploit them.
Ah, well. Once I have them tell a few, the rest can be suggested rather than told, since it will last all night. And under the stress they are, I think I can make it clear that laughter or lack thereof are driven by the circumstances, not by the intrinsic funniness, so I don't have to worry about discord between how funny the characters find them, and how funny the readers do. Well, not too much.