A LACK OF PIES
dedicated to Dr. Spooner and his sunny fayings
Once upon many a year ago, it was roaring with pain on the beautiful green fields outside the castle. The queer old Dean sat on his throne, while his inner porpoise sang at the top of his voice. The Dean was playing cards while opening a bag of cop porn. He sat contemplating whether he should wave the sails or rave the sane forest. ‘Oh how happy and gay I am’, he said as he picked up his last card, whore of farts. ‘I have no clubs, diamonds and spades’ he mumbled heartlessly.
All the time, Sue, her depressed servant, while chewing all the doors, had to fight a liar to entertain the Dean. She knew she had to face her daily struggle of a lack of pies after they were all used up in the nursery rhymes. It was hard to eat a lack of pies, especially for Sue. Sue desperately wanted to escape – all the noise from the inner porpoise was killing her. Sue sighed.
As the Dean nicked her pose, Sue put down the bag of nasal huts for the Dean and scribbled a huge sign that read, ‘Know your own blows!’ at the Dean, knowing what the punishment for mad banners was, going to shake a tower alone was the only thing to do.
At the lead of spite, Sue ran to the tower. She shook the tower until she could shake no more, but she couldn’t pear the bane anymore, ‘Go help me Sod! Send someone smart who will shut that bowel feast of a porpoise up! I ask you with all the soap in my hole to show me where to go!’
There was a big bang, a crash and a flash – and suddenly a dark figure stood in front of her. In a hark dusky Scottish accent, he said, ‘Hello, you must be Frank.’ Sue trembled. ‘No, I’m Sue’, she said, being frank. He grinned. ”It is I, the one you asked for, the fart smella! God’s Plaster Man! And I am here to fix everything. Ready? Now this is the punny fart.’ A booming gurgle from the heavens came and all the roaring pain ended. Frank, the fart smelling plaster man, gave Sue a bow and arrow. And he said, ‘I’ll save you and the Dean, the porpoise and the kingdom if you get a bull’s eye on your first try and I promise you will never have to deal with a lack of pies again.’
‘But I’ve never shot a bow and arrow. It’s impossible! Thanks for nothing! Wait, I’ve tasted my grime!’ In fury, she let go of the arrow and it shot off and landed on a tree stump in the field.
She stormed off, ‘See!?!’ A tear formed in her eye and every step she took, another one fell, she didn’t know where she was going and there was no one to tease her ears like her mom used to when she was a kid.
As she walked and wept and wailed, there was another flash, it was Frank with a big piece of chalk. Sue blared stinking at him. He nudged his head toward the arrow. Sue wasn’t sure if she understood what he was suggesting.
A smile started growing. She took the chalk and ran to the tree, hesitated a moment and then drew a circle around the arrow. Now, she had shot a bull’s eye!‘It’s been fight in my own race all along.’ She snagged the eye from the bull and put it in her pocket for her first bull’s eye pie. The lack of pies was over.
Then Sue felt a kick. She looked up at Frank grinning ear to rear.
She finally had her own inner porpoise.
