16 April 2012
When I was asked to use as many bread related words in a story as possible...
A short story
Bread looked out of his window one day and guess what he saw. Grapes the grapist. So bread stepped into his loafers and loafed downstairs over to the door. "I'm being a (l)oaf" said bread and fastened the deadbolt.
Last time grapes had graped him for abusing young loafes at the loafery. Luckily bread hadn't been to the loafery because they had cancelled their breading programme, bread wasn't being produced anymore.
So bread loafed back upstairs hoping grapes wouldn't loaf his way in. "Loafy times" said bread.
Bread loafed his way back to bead when without warning a golden prawn materialised in front of him. So he loafed downstairs and made a chowmien but decided he didn't like Chinese...
In this Loafy state of events bread wasn't grapely surprised when Mc Walrus loafed up to the front door, being a good friend of bread's he was allowed in.
Mc Walrus sat down. "I have some bad news and some Loafy news" he said, trying to avoid eye contact with bread. "well loaf away" "All right" said Mc Walrus Well the Loafy news is the court case of your loafist actions is over. The bad news is you have to move back to amsterdam...
Bread held his usual Loafy composure. "I have something for you too" he finally said. Bread produced a gun from under his crust, pointing the snub end of the Bredren A-99 a small pistol.
"who do you work for!" Shouted bread intimidatingly. "I don't know what your talking about" Mc Walrus said, backing into a corner. "LIAR" "Who are you!!" Mc Walrus whimpered.
"No!" said bread, at that point he grabbed the back of his loafed neck, and tugged hard. "Le real question est, qui êtes vous!" Mc Walrus was now staring at bread but not quite bread.
A French pan. "you-your... Pan von bréad of the French intelligence" "Tres bien" said bréad but now it was his turn to be shocked.
Mc Walrus pulled off of his tusks, and placed one on his forehead. "Sacres Bleau, C'est Mc Narhual!" "It's too late now Bréad, I've alerted the fuzz"
And with that walrus pressed a button on his face. "Is that so!" said bréad and he raised his gun.
*
Four loud bangs echoed in the small house.
When the fuzz did arrive all they found was a few crumbs, an the still bleeding carcas of Mc Narhual.
The exiting conclusion will not be seen, but something else will.
«Alex»
A Short, Random Story • Opuss № I