Posts Tagged ‘Humour’

The Niggle

September 15, 2009

.

There was a new student at Leicester

About to start his first semester

But it quickly became clear

As the beginning drew near

That something was starting to fester

.

It was not in his stomach, this niggling new doubt

Nor in his sock pile – which was starting to sprout

Rather it happened to be

(just between you and me)

in his mind, and it made him pout

.

Now I’m sure you’ll concur

Both madams, and sirs

That pouting can never be handsome

“But it couldn’t be helped!”

The young man would have yelped

if the issue had been brought to ransom

.

And it may well be, that the gentleman here

Was unable to alter his manner

But the point to be made

As blunt as a spade

Is the fellow’s just being a spanner

.

“So why is it,” you’re entitled to ask

“that you mention this dull metaphor?”

“Because,” I’d sigh, in weary reply,

“there are things he’d be much better for.”

.

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Death By Chocolate

August 10, 2009

Somewhere between the senses – not in another dimension as such, but hidden deep in the rarely-trodden tunnels between taste and touch – Death By Chocolate cleared his nasal passages. The process sounded like thick, melted chocolate draining through metal pipes, and as he swallowed the congealed mass with a gulp, one of his subordinates oozed towards him. It was sporting a look of wary excitement on its, for want of a better word, face.

“What do you-ouu think?” it bubbled.

DBC looked at the telephone on the table. Was it really that time already? He double-checked the figures, rolled the calculations once more through the sinewy wringers of his mind, and found himself satisfied. It was.

There were a lot of phones in his little part of the Sugarverse, but this was the really important one. It was the one he only got to use once every few thousand years, and he took a few nanoseconds to savour the opportunity. Naturally, he was not a fan of anything savoury at the best of times, so before his distaste could spoil the moment he snatched up the receiver.

He would not miss Obesifer. And although there hadn’t exactly been a cheer when the pale horse had made its move, the mood in the observation room had become noticeably sweeter.

“That one will do,” he said, his voice a decisive, brandy-snap crunch.