Monday, 16 March 2009

Royal Pain

I had defeated the King of Space. I made new laws. My first law was that no-one was allowed to complain about me eating strange things. I held a bag of crisps up in the air, then the strawberry milkshake. The audience gasped. I had them beheaded.
I held up a jar of pickled onions, and then I revealed profiteroles. The remains of the audience tried to stifle their reaction. I had the loudest ones beheaded.
I held up a loaf of bread, then I held up a jar of peanut butter. No-one made a noise, except a little kid who said, "look he's not wearing any clothes."
I had the kid brought up to the stage to find out why his eyes weren't working, but when he got there he was my mother. Then I got out of the bed where last night's conquests still lay.
My mum, the kid, said "You should put a jumper on."
The audience agreed, so I put on a fur coat, and the fur tickled. The coat smelt like coffee.
Waking up is always such an anti-climax, but it's lovely when your wife brings you coffee in the morning.

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