My fired, your fired, their fired
What chance do the rest of us have if even the BBC can’t get this right?
Archive for May 2nd, 2007
Frank the scary monster
Recently rediscovered from the archives, today I present a short story.
I believe this dates back to 2000 during an IT lesson.
Once upon a time in a faraway land there lived a scary monster, whose name was Frank. This very scary monster scared all the people, scared them half to death. They decided one day that they had to have a party, for no apparent reason, but who gives a damn, they ordered lots of sausages on sticks and eggs sandwiches. While they were having a good time, the monster joined the party he had on a disguise, the monster wasn’t scary, and he looked very small. There was a dog at his feet barking at the monster, because the dog knew it was monster, a scary, scary monster. Incidentally the dog’s name was Dizzy Couling. When the people realised they set about trying to kill it, but the monster was too tough, too very, very tough. They decided they should try to reason with it so they asked it wanted, he replied in a most courteous manner, “I require some food my good man, if you could rustle me some up I’d be most obliged. I feel it only fair to warn you know that I only eat people, of the fair damsel kind. And if you dare to feed me anything else, or even heavens forbid nothing at all, I will be forced to destroy your town, and all who live in it. Can’t be helped, I’m a monster you see. So be a good sport and get me some food.” So by and by the villagers decided to honour the monster’s request and did indeed prepare a fair damsel for sacrificing to Frank. In a while Frank did return to collect his meal and was quite surprised to find that they had indeed supplied him with a tasty morsel indeed. The reason he was so shocked was that he had only been doing the monster thing (it’s a legal obligation thing), and would have been quite prepared to accept roast beef or something similar. He felt guilty now, he didn’t want to eat such a nice looking person as she, so he made his excuses and left. The townsfolk were, quite understandably rather annoyed at this latest turn of events. And set about pursuing the monster who left without a thought for the kind villagers who prepared such a marvellous feast for him. They ran after Frank with crude tools fashioned out of dead fish and limp rabbits. They never did catch up with dear old Frank who was last seen flying over on Scunthorpe en route to Australia, where it is rumoured that he has a cousin called Betty…
