Just indulge me here. I am the customer.
You are? asked the Toad. That's news to me.
The Scorpion was already sitting on him.
Take me on your back across the river. I will be the muse and you will be the poet.
Already, I don't like this game.
It's not a game. Exclaimed the Scorpion. This is art!
The Toad was already swimming.
Art, he thought to himself. Silly, but something about it did catch his fancy.
The swimming was drudgery, but after a while, the Toad had made it past the toughest currents of the river, closer to the other side.
See there you go! The Scorpion was encouraging.
Thanks, but I am not feeling any inspiration. What's the point of all this anyway?
This is the point! Ha ha! Suddenly, the Scorpion stung the Toad.
The point of his stinger was all that was needed. His poison spread.
But why? The Toad asked with profound despondency. Now we will both die.
Anything for art, right! It's in my nature.
No comments:
Post a Comment