Once upon a time there was an old man who ate some wheat. He had shoes made of onions and his coat and trousers were made out of corn. He lived in a wireless modem. With his pet pigeon called Percy and his donkey Duke Sandwich he began his adventure in time to the spoon.
It was a bright shiny day when the adventure began and the old man was in a particulary great mood because of his bean sprouts. They were so large, so round and so honest if a little past their best before date. Bean Sprout magic works better if you let them mature a little. And so, with a bag full of bean sprout magic and a jam sandwich he began the long walk down the lane.
After a short while Percy exploded like a jellyfish in the vacuum of space. The nameless old man was shocked, shocked indeed. Frustated at not being able to type more than a farts length of a sentance the old man shook his "donkey" until it went limp and gave up on life.
With Duke Sandwich and the Percy both dead the old man suddenly felt very lonely, and as everyone polished their shoes that morning they could not imagine the mayhem. A great many ducks flew past the scene and commented on the woefull state of affairs the old man had had caused by his neglectful nature.
And it got worse, after removing all of his sprout juice from the burbrey underpants he was sporting he then began to wrap many craplets he had found from toe to neck, making a a beautiful brown suit. He then fashioned a bow and held it aloft triumphantly before skipping off into the town to torment the unsuspecting old black and white pig called elderberry. An easy target, literally, the porker had it coming, and why not? After all he made no effort to evade the potentially fatal bean sprouts ,but then- pigs are not fussy eaters are they? I once witnessed one eating an entire country, with not one ounce of regard for the citizens who had strugled through hardship and catastrophes for many generations and had only that celebrated the end of 70 years of civil war!
So, with the pig like no other creature break dancing, how could the oldman resist just one more shot, and that was the end of that. The smell of bacon wafted gently up into the air.
Then a very rich woman approached and asked if the old man might like more money than her palace in beverly hills had cost in 88, which was about the price of a billion pound note. The old man looked shocked, then pulled his finger from the electricity socket. "what would I have to do" he asked suspiciously. She bekoned him to come closer and whispered in his ear: eat the peanut butter. Then pointed at a mountain far off in the distance made of peanut butter, entirely! "..all of it !" she barked like a seargent major. "With this!" she continued, as she presented him with a straw from a Capri-Sun drink carton.The old man (or OM as he is known) then scratched his long white dangling beard and considered the proposition.
Eventually he spoke: accept the words he spoke as spoken by an old man speaking to a rich woman, it was drivel. The important bit was "OK". So OM set off - straw in hand towards the distant mountain and when he eventually arrived he put the straw in his mouth and started sucking, he tried first to suck up all of the peanut butter, but only managed a teaspoon before he got a bit clacky and needed water. Looking around he noticed a pub and after pleading for water he was answered with "weve got beer or.... beer!", by the bar-keep. "Ill have a beer then" said OM and he returned to the foot of the mountain, beer in hand full of hope and determination.He suked as an old man might, desperate to make a dent in the mountain, to prove his worth. To prove his worth as a historic figure of greatness.Two hours and fifteen pints later he collapsed face down in the peanut butter foot hills.
He awoke in the morning to the realisation that he was going to have to cheat if he were to succeed. And so he came up with a devilish plan which involved two ants, a sponge, some jelly and a soap-on-the-rope. He fed the ants a little of the jelly and sponged them down. Then lathered them well with the soap. They were now primed and ready for his pre-mentioned plan.
The hyperactive, well lubed ants fitted perfectly into the small cracks with the old mountain of peanut butter and he launched others to the summit using the straw as a pea shoot. The ants mutiplied, of course, and very soon they began to make a peanut butter mole hill of the mountain, whilst OM pretended to be doing all the work with his straw.
It was all going so well, how was OM to forsee the disasterous aftereffects of his cunning. The ants had grown to gargantuant proportions, even larger than the average elephant infact, and they were very thirsty! They all looked around for some water, but all they to satisfy their thirst was the contents of the local bar, and when the bar refused service to six legged giant ants, pointing to the sign which stated just that, "NO SERVICE TO GIANT ANTS".
Cant blame them for for being somewhat irritated at the thought of being regarded as second class citizen, but their reaction was not that of what you might expect from giant ants. They organised a peacful demonstration of their close harmonie acapela, singing the well known song Satisfaction by the rolling stones.They all had suprisingly posh accents and were actually rather good. As their velvet tones rised so too did the level of sugar in cakes, a suprising result of of an earthquake which occured just as the baker was adding sugar to his mix he sadly sadly past away having spilt so much sugar that he was buried alive!
OM had succeded in fooling the ants into doing his biding and had even fooled the rich woman that he had won their bet fairly. But there was something that still niggled him -and it wasnt his conscience- it was a small, yet exceedingly ferocious, hedge hog called micheal, O the irony! with all the giant ants about, in the end it was a small hedge hog that finished the the old chap off. THE END.