"Metabolism? Oh, I thought you said 'metal ball ism'". It's a wonder how I survived past middle school. The lunch alone was horrific! Still, I went ahead and ate it. Now I don't feel so well. My stomach' s gurgling. My bowels are burbling. Urp! Oh, pardon me. Dessert? Nooooo, I couldn't. Well, maybe one bite. Famous last words. I woke up, ice cold, strapped to a...a table...of some kind. It's damp and dark. I could hear scurrying feet beneath me. "WHY DID TAKE THAT LAST BITE?" a voice squeaked. "Sure it was Emmentaler, but come on! It was practically screaming 'laced with heavy sedatives', yet you couldn't resist!" A metal bar across my midsection kept me from getting free. "What is the meaning of all this!" I demanded. My captor smiled, "I carry the black plague, and soon so will you. And then... the world!" "Evil. I knew I smelled a Buboe leaking. I decided to do the only thing I knew just had to work. I covered my captor in mercury and baked him in a oven. Then I left, plague doctor nose held high in the air since it had fallen off due to a nasty case of leprosy. That was fine, because I nobody wants to smell anything baking in mercury, anyway. As I passed through the London streets, I was in awe that in my neighborhood when you mentioned a mad hatter you were asked which one. By thinking I could see the future I brought about its downfall. My lips slipped off.

 

Comments

1 Woab's photo

Oh dear. I seem to have been suffering from wandering I.

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