He washed himself in lemonade,
He danced about with fairy dust,
And now he's gone away.
Wednesday, 10 December 2008
Sunday, 7 December 2008
The Horrifying Story of Hamish O’dingleberry
Licking his lips, Hamish O’dingleberry opened the fridge… then jumped back in horror! Causing his numerous layers of flab to wobble about like jelly. How could a fridge so colossal and usually as full as his, be so empty? He stared at the naked shelves in dismay, then at the mouldy old carrot in the corner of his otherwise foodless fridge. As he reached out for the carrot, knowing it was his last resort, he suddenly felt a strange feeling that he was being watched. He chose to ignore it. His fingers were centimetres away from the carrot, when he suddenly remembered that he had his “Emergency Cake Supply” stashed away in the cellar, saved for times just like this.
As Hamish plodded down the old, creaky steps into the cellar, he thought he heard someone following him. He spun round. Nothing. Hamish galloped down the rest of the stairs at lightning speed, his heart pounding as he plunged into the darkness. He heaved himself over to the light switch as fast as his stubby, little legs could carry him. He flicked it on but nothing happened. The only light was that of the moon, coming in through the tiny, square window, casting oddly shaped shadows on the far-wall and illuminating the many cracks and cobwebs.
Hamish shivered, though he could not even imagine the doom that awaited him, getting closer every… step… he took… Suddenly there was an ominous crash! Hamish spun round and to his utter disbelief, there stood… THE CARROT! Hamish opened his mouth to scream but nothing came out. “What’s so scary about a mouldy carrot?” you ask? Well, have you ever seen a mouldy old carrot with an evil grin grow from 6 inches to 30 foot in a matter of seconds, breaking though the ceiling and causing the house to fall away around you?
The carrot let his enormous, orange foot hover over Hamish for a second,
“Any last words?” the carrot asked in a low, husky voice.
“Um…”
SPLAT!
Hamish was squashed like a giant tomato.
A few hours later his wife got home. She called out his name but got no answer. She searched the house from the top to bottom, until she found Hamish dead in the cellar, lying in a pool of his own blood. His skin was ghostly white and his flesh was dry and cold. A tear rolled down her cheek and splashed to the dull grey ground. She was so caught up in her misery that she didn’t notice that the carrot – which had been lying (carrot sized) on the floor beside Hamish - started to grow. She was so deafened by her own crying that she didn’t even here the ear piercing crash as the carrot once again broke through the ceiling. She didn’t notice the house start to shake, or the enormous foot-shaped shadow which was now surrounding her.
I think you know what happened next.
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