The neverending pie
by Jonny Fenham
John entered the backstreet florists where a tiny little Scotsman sporting a rather severe monocle faced him from behind a glass-encased throne fashioned entirely from jettisoned staircarpets. Little did he know, but things were about to get very interesting indeed.
'So', began the attendant. 'I suppose that you've come about the budgerigar?'
'So', began the attendant. 'I suppose that you've come about the budgerigar?'
John entered the backstreet florists where a tiny little Scotsman sporting a rather severe monocle faced him from behind a glass-encased throne fashioned entirely from jettisoned staircarpets. Little did he know, but things were about to get very interesting indeed.
'So', began the attendant. 'I suppose that you've come about the budgerigar?'
'So', began the attendant. 'I suppose that you've come about the budgerigar?'
please wait...remixing in progress...
