the Book of Sponge and Others.

today i make a wet sponge fill the office space. i make the sponge sit on my chair and wait for me to sit on it.
then again, that probably will be too much excitement for a workday.

tomorrow i make a wet sponge go into work instead of myself. i make the sponge sit on my chair and wait for me to sit on it.
but that probably would be too much excitement for a workday.

there we go again, said breadroll, hardly haven’t seen us leaving and there …
we are at the corner, said sponge, that should be enough for today. forget about wet seats and smurfing.
alright, said block of wood. they stood for a while and tried to remember their lines and way. that failed gloriously.

there we go again, said sponge.
nothing to say, said breadroll, the corner.
will we have spreadsheet, said block of wood, they call it report.
a field day, said breadroll, when it’s done right. there was a silence of many to come. i wish i could put a well put sentence to paper, he said.

and the gum i stepped in drags on for the day.
sponge, wet, on chair. alert. not me. yes there’s a meeting, as ordered, with fries. sponge all alert.
not one moves.

what, said sponge, just what. what can you say, can.
breadroll, said breadroll.
yes, said sponge, but not on target. will have to review the data going forward, he backed out.

yes, said sponge, yes. the s-word. yes sir. was not that hard. yes. someday we will get places. shops at corners, corner shops. ice cream parlors. swell leaders at every corner and a meeting to attend 24/7 slash 3-6-5. we do debate leap year disturbance but certainly will come up with some cover. yes someday. bottom line.

when fishburger turns up, the man said, brief him on this and that but don’t be easy on him, he needs to know. the man said that and went away, was gone.
he will not turn up, said breadroll, and if he does, he’ll be stuck into the spreadsheets, not a chance to launch a joke.
if we had a good one, said sponge, it’ll be wasted.

sponge rang, said he was bored.
that’s it now. no more sponge. we assume we send kettle into work. he is target-driven, customer-focused and eager to provide high-quality, high-level 24/7 services, aren’t you, kettle? non-responsive.
breadroll. maybe.
we clearly should identify our recruitment requirements.
meanwhile a speck of dust fell off the table.

a man named fishburger came and stayed only briefly. he left before lunch without notice.

about to descend, said sponge, but didn’t after all. what a disappointment. it would have made the day.
he sighed stereotypically.

i usually get depressed, said breadroll, but i tend not to mind to much, mind being one of the buzz words, i guess. do i mind would i mind?
a slit and butter could be stuffed in but there is no butter, only buts. if we could roll office chair over me at least, breadroll feebles.

green tea this morning. t, tt, ttt.
green. in a dark cup.
block of wood and sponge smirk in the corner.

block of wood, sponge and breadroll were overly and utterly excited. another newsletter, a staff announcement on european level this time, was delivered to the yesterday.
wonder who i get to share excitement with, said sponge, when block of wood placed himself for a test sit.

you’ve got mail:

dear colleague,
despite popular opinion no breathing contest will be held at these premises anytime soon.
also a smoking contest is not planned in the near future.
we may add that in our humble opinion pointing at alleged or proven idiots should not be considered an acceptable distraction for lunchbreaks and hence we do wish you to stop calling for any competition of that kind going forward, now and in the near future.
should you have any questions please do not hesitate to send them to the undersigned for further review.
thank you for your cooperation and kind regards
sports&social club

sponge was very disappointed to hear the news, having submitted only modest proposals. block of wood and breadroll almost immediately broke out in tears as the proposals were family friendly. they later had a meeting to discuss which reaction should be deemed more appropriate.

i am humming a jolly blues and whistle as i leave the house. block of wood and sponge are locked away in drawers, and i go cotton picking.
breadroll, come back, you have no butter on.
always the same story.

breadroll reads a book on flies caught in sap. that’ll be you he says. in a couple of million years when they excavate your office you’ll sit in a piece of amber.
i think so too. said sponge, hence i wear fresh boxer shorts every day.

breadroll is a vegetable.
block of wood was slightly upset about the pattern someone, presumably breadroll, had carved into him.
sponge.
yes.
look at that.
ooh yes, very nice. nice pattern.

block of wood, sponge and breadroll frogmarched around the corner, around, around. this corner, another, that.
we’re nearly there.
where?

the 3 wellknown morning staff were walking down the street.
breadroll: where are we going?
sponge: nowhere.
breadroll: that’s very sad.
block of wood had left his tongue back in the house hence did not contribute when his two mates discussed at length the fact that he had left his tongue back in the house.

hurry up, said block of wood, the tea is served.
i have bisquits, said sponge.
yes, let’s have tea and bisquits, said block of wood.
and you may as well call them cookies, sponge added.
alas, when they arrived at the table, the tea pot did not look a immaculate as they had expected.
breadroll was floating in it quite obviously.

what are we doing that for, said block of wood.
we have to, said sponge.
but why, said breadroll.
shut up, said blokk and slapped some butter in breadroll’s face. the tea incident had not been forgotten.

what are we doing here, said sponge.
not much, said breadroll, we just try to get ahead of things. this and that really.
block of wood was a table (impersonated).
yes, said sponge, i think so, too.

it’ll be a short week, said sponge, i reckon, now i actually think, best thing is i’ll do the old, tried and tested wet-myself-and-have-people-sit-on-me trick.
endless hours of endless fun, block of wood knew to add.
one day i’ll shove a cutlet in my cleft, said breadroll.

gosh we have a meeting today, said block of wood.
sponge was irresponsive and -ble while counting peas and writing down numbers on a piece of paper. gosh this misery.
yep, said breadroll, wouldn’t want him between my halves.

i am tired, said sponge.
me too, said breadroll and rubbed jam stains off, perhaps we jump into an axe like block of wood does.

what are we doing here, said sponge.
not much, said breadroll, we just try to get ahead of things.
block of wood was peeling potatoes.

go for it baxter, breadroll said, but there was nobody and nothing baxter could go for. there was no baxter either.
sponge and block of wood instead did not move.

twinkle, twinkle little star, see me staggering to the bar. this and other songs had been prepared for the grand celebration. block of wood and breadroll quivered with exitement.
sponge closed the windows, spilt the beer in the flower pot and told the bunch to go to work.

ladies and gentlemen, we proudly present ‘the load of the ruler, the two emails’.
playfully breadroll had worked out this caption, set the breakfast table and freshly squeezed juice in a jar.
in vain, as blokk stabbed him with a buttered knife and sponge watered his crust. that’ll teach him to display a good mood in public.
the public is not ready for that yet, says the chairman, sponge said.

bowl of porrige, steaming hot, impersonating acrobatic headstand volcanoes waited to be eaten.
eggs and crispy bacon were quietly smouldering in the pan. 3 disgruntled breakfast faires argued for the last drop in the whiskey bottle.
ladies, sponge said, would you mind keeping it down. breadroll, block of wood and i don’t have to get up for another 4 minutes.

wednesday.
right.
bread and butter, said block of wood.
that’s not nice, said breadroll.
lads, it’s the one-word competition. one word, alright? now, it’s getting late, let’s go.

run, said block of wood, run, dear breadroll, run for sponge is going to stuff you. he deliberately kept some old meat to stuff the breadroll with. yumm, he would say, breadroll stuffed with meat and fried pans and steamed pots.
and you burn the oven, said breadroll.
boil the kettle, said sponge, breadroll, slap some cheese on.

chicken shit. a whitish substance. dries quickly. and you?
cow dung. cow dung brown. not solid, not too runny either, slower to dry, but more substance when dried than chicken shit. what did you have on your plate recently?
breadroll did not answer.
block of wood, what about you.
ice cream once.
ice cream? that’s awful.
i know. i am getting it seen.

no no no, said breadroll, you will not flatten me.
but…
i know, i would be flat then, obviously, and take up less space in the train.
or in the bus.
or in the bus. exactly.
but if you flattened me, breadroll said, i would be flat, obviously, and i would look like a pizza.
what wrong with that?
i am a breadroll, breadroll said with pride.
sponge all in a sudden had this vision of a sponge chair again. it’ll go with a pizza, he said.

when shall we three meet again, in carpark, toilet or in rain, said breadroll.
doesn’t matter, as long as anyone brings cigarettes, said sponge.

breadroll made tea and got ready for sausages.
block of wood in the meantime played monster to the orange kids and collected their juice in jars.
sponge was finished in the bathroom and admired the breakfast table.
then they thought of the jolly tricks they could play in work and left the house.

all three were lined up on chairs, soaked and ready for people to sit on them.
wet bum squad, although block of wood would have preferred a glass of champagne placed on him.

and? everybody in good form, said sponge.
shape more so, said breadroll.
are we supposed to, said block of wood.
why? i am just asking, said sponge.
meanwhile the sun was illuminating the room.
and why is that happening now, said breadroll.

i shall impersonate a marble statue today, said breadroll.
with butter, said block of wood.
breadroll made a face. i thought to impersonate some goddess or at least some poxy poet or pathetique politician. or a pornstar. they don’t wear butter.
but breadrolls do.
i am impersonating a goddess, at least a goddesslet. what are you anyway.
why don’t we finish the report first, said sponge.

breadroll, sponge and block of wood idled in the hallway, no place to go, no thing to do, lingering like the bleak sun in the pale sky, the sun that does not care to appear.
all three exhaled noisily. all three took a deep breath.

secula seculorum. lorem ipsum dolor sit amet.
block of wood, are you nearly finished?
consectetuer adipiscing elit, sed diam… nearly, yes. the communion still.
don’t forget to shave, d’you hear me. the bowl of holy water there…
yes?
well, that bowl is actually a shaving bowl.
oh is it.
yes. and don’t feast on breadroll too much, i don’t want people to stare when we go to work.
ut wisi enim ad minoris veniam, quis nostrorum exercii statunt.
sponge felt dry and unfunny and went into the kitchen to boil the kettle.

breadroll told sponge that he was lonely and thus wanted to marry. a french stick would be great, he said, or a delicious danish pastry, all soft and juicy.
danish pastry goes stale very quickly said sponge and continued to soak up tea and make funny noises. could you pass me a drop of milk, please.
i recommend the spanish tart, said block of wood and kindly volunteered to carve a cruzifix should any festive occasion occur sometime in the near future.

blood, sweat and guts, said breadroll, get the staplers out.
i’d be quite happy with some toast, said block of wood.
sponge quietly went to the fridge to get jam and cheese.

breadroll slapped sponge and sponge slapped block of wood. then they changed seats. the entire procedure in silence. solely the sound of bread against sponge and sponge against wood and noises of chairs being moved. almost silence.

so, was that the spanish vanilla tart, i saw there recently, said sponge and, thankyou, as he placed his cup of tea on block of wood.
silence.
so, was that the spanish vanilla tart, i saw there recently, said sponge and, thankyou, as he took his cup of tea which was placed on block of wood.
silence.
do i have to ask again, said sponge. no, said block of wood, he’s with a strawberry cheese cake, i saw them.
oh really.

why don’t we have cake for breakfast, said block of wood.
don’t you dare, said breadroll.
sponge cleaned the plates of the love nest.

sponge was stirring his tea. it is an a art and a source of inspiration, he said, to stir the tea in the right way. not any auld way of stirring would do, tell you that for nothing.
no reply.
sponge stirred his tea in a very concentrated and organised manner. there is no point rushing it, he said, you may as well leave it fullstop if you want to rush it.
block of wood sat down at the table with a cup of coffee.
now that is a completely different matter, he said. you may want to be very careful when stirring it. a delicate thing to do.

we are running late, said block of wood.
breadroll had finished his butter bath. i am finished, he said.
yes you are. still we are running late. very late.
extremely late?
gargantuously late.
ridiculously late? breadroll was getting excited for reasons nobody understood or wanted to understand.
enough now. sponge, are you coming?
i’m finished, i’m waiting, said sponge.

twinkle, twinkle little star, see me stumbling to the bar. this and other songs had been prepared for the grand celebration. block of wood and breadroll quivered with exitement.
i don’t know where i’m going, i don’t know where i am, the rowers that are rowing are mighty motion men.
sponge closed the windows, emptied the cans and bottles and jars into the flower pot and told the bunch to go to work. i repeat, he said. repetion is the salt of life.

after going around in circles for a while breadroll, sponge and block of wood felt that it was time to follow the border of a square. a challenge, a welcome change of scenery. no more rounding things but calling a spade rectangular.

block of wood rolled itself up the hill and sponge splashed down.
breadroll informed people on their early post-sunday walk to work about the purposes, intentions, targets and visions of enterprise.

blokk had breadroll and sponge chained to the table. he smacked them with the wooden spoon, curled their tongues with the mixer and made them sit on the toaster. that is educational, he said, we could sell the film over the internet.
breadroll and sponge did not answer as they both had a potato in their mouth.

take the beard off, breadroll, you’re supposed to be an angel.
an angel? are you serious?
yes, dead serious. an angel or something else with wings.
oh. alright. i take the beard off so, will i?
yes. please.
block of wood, breadroll and sponge sat on the couch holding candles. now you know.

to sit beside stem and stone in the meeting, breadroll had asked for after he had replied to the meeting request.
to give them a good whack in the balls while shaking their hand had been blokk’s desire since 14th december 1999 and he occacionally and casually reminded his compagnions of that desire of his.
that he would meet them in the car where he was waiting, sponge said, and that they should not make a habit of it.

what do we have here? it is a new year. breadroll took a bow and cheered his performance.
shorter, sponge said. o dear, a new year. that’s modern, that’s vibrant and new. besides, we’re late, as in late late. better go to the threadmill.
blokk craved the poems in breadroll’s crust. i put me shoes on, he said.

a wave of woffle, a plenty of paper, a flood of letters is filling the desk, sponge said, and none to keep it at bay.
damnit, said breadroll.
i know, said block of wood with the faint smile of somebody who has had an idea just in this instance and is about to share it with friends, we set the table on top of things as that is what we are.
all agreed and so it was done.

a red stain of jam on a silvery blade of knife pushed breadroll’s bewilderment beyond the faith of lord angels. sponge had to soak it in a drink of water to clean the blade and breadroll’s nose alike. they spent hours and ages and yarns to discuss the quality of jam to no avail.

sponge, breadroll and block of wood sat on the couch.
kekkekkek utuul goh, said breadroll.
rrrrrrot dadida dada ffroll, said block of wood.
my word, said sponge, there would have been a time for such word, my word. this is sofa. sofa, take a bow. sofa does not move, you see. let us go now.
sponge, breadroll and block of wood sat on the sofa.

no please, nobody wants a repetition. it has been a success, people liked the poem a lot and people felt the heartfelt feeling but people do no wish a repetition.
three on the couch, one in the middle.
tikilililil oo kop terri hililililili
riiiiiitiiiii kok utuul waaaah
riiiiiitiiiiii kok utuul waaah
riiiiiitiiiiiii kok utuul waah
riiiiiitiiiiiiii kok utuul wah. kekk.
(mtokk nokk) when police and fire brigade had gained access to the flat they found sponge sitting on a couch (smooshch), on a plate before him block of wood stuffed into breadroll.
my friend plate and i are having breakfast, sponge said, would you care for a bite?

i am the emperor of rome.
right. and i am the pope of china.
sponge was a little bit envious as the pills his two colleagues had to swallow due to the most recent poetry incident seemed to be a rather pleasureful pieces of medication.
they’re bitter though, breadroll whispered through a straw.

breadroll, sponge and block of wood will go on strike. not today though. tomorrow perhaps.
sponge said: if we do not do it soon, we will be doing it much later which would not be good.

we won’t say a word, do hear me?
yes.
yes. not a…
word.
yes.

so the strike is over then, is it?
couch had packed her parcels, bulged her bags and fitted the suitcases. she was ready to go bar sponge, breadroll and block of wood sitting on her.
yep, it is over.
pretty much so.
kind of, i’d say.
they did not move.
earlier this morning sponge had said that their hats may look rather silly, but this aspect had not yet been fully discussed and considered.

couch after all had decided to stay as she felt needed and wanted and wanted to be sat on.
don’t wetten yourself, sponge, she said.
we have to get those piles off the desk at some stage, said sponge, yes, i suppose, he looks terrible.

sponge, breadroll and block of wood sat on the couch.
sponge, breadroll and block of wood sat on.
sponge, breadroll and block of wood.
gosh, this morning is a bit sluggish, said sponge.
i stepped on one this morning in the back garden. a subtle little sound they make, said breadroll.
and now we sit here and wait, said block of wood, sponge, you did wetten yourself, did you.
yep, said sponge.

did you have a good weekend?
yeah, was great.
what did you get up to?
not much, really, just took it easy.
well, breadroll, you being one of the mtv generation youngsters, what made you do that?
blokk had precautiously applied severely sore looking headlock to sponge who was about to ask further questions and joyfully proceeded to wash the wall with sponge.
why can’t you be a breadnut, he said.

let’s play golf, blokk said and hit breadroll against the wall with a 7 wood.
that’s not good, said sponge, not good at all at all. today’s assignment is to list all types of red excluding all sorts of shades of red. not golf at all.
and 7 wood wasn’t the right club anyway, said breadroll.

now. we count, said sponge, one. that’s it.
two, said breadroll.
tee, said block of wood.
good work, excellent, said sponge, we work on it a bit, some minor points, and then send it off. but for now, we ought to dribble.

breadroll, sponge and block of wood had been framed.
oak: sponge.
beechwood: breadroll.
larch: block of wood.
on the wall in a row they were lined up, and sponge said he was glad that a frame had eventually been set. a framework was needed.
nursery, said breadroll.
rhyme, said block of wood.

now that we are framed, said breadroll, why don’t we fade out.
we didn’t get dusted this morning. block of wood seemed tired. i am tired, he said, sick of this.
finally a final decision was made.
we fade, if it is approved, said sponge.

the day started anemically.
yippie, said sponge, yippie, and waved a little flag. where is everyone, i wonder, sponge said, when the hammer blow hit him on the head.
that is inconvenient, he said.

god, he’s so shallow, so shallow, said block of wood.
agree, so shallow, said breadroll.
now come on, lads, said sponge, shallow soups are deep.

isn’t that lovely said sponge, we sit here and have breakfast. outside the sun could shine, the birds sing and the buses be on time. what more can one expect?
breadroll said, a little bit of butter would not have been considered gluttony.
that’s right, said block of wood, and pig thighs for the meeting.
did you prepare anything, said sponge.
a neatly spread sheet, said block of wood.
breadroll bathed in margarine. no beer, he said.
everything comes to an innovative conclusion when your visions are focused, said the calender’s entry for the day.

and ham is a perfectly valid currency, said breadroll, i stuffed my cleft, just in case.
would the machine take salami slices, said block of wood.
sure does, said breadroll, we were talking about it in the last meeting.
even italian?
yep.
amazing.
i am excited, too, said sponge, to be on the tea.

alright, so we have a plan, said sponge, we won”t talk about it at all and that’s all there is to it.
not a word, daid breadroll.
we will not mention that we were late, said block of wood, not a fraction of a date or a time.
we talk about the weather instead.
which is not bad today if we may say so.
the three compagnions started walking in circles.

blokk stalks the house with a bat in his hand. he hurls sponge into the toilet bowl and has a bite of breadroll for joy. a good munch.
sometimes, says sponge, it does help not to flush and get over it.

what a rage yesterday, said block of wood.
yeah, when you battered me, pretty impressive, said breadroll.
the world stood still in glo and rwy, said sponge, we should draft a report on that.
they agreed to have a meeting asap.

the three sat at the breakfast table. mole-eyed sponge, red-eyed block of wood and puss-eyed breadroll.
they said on the news it was a new day today, said block of wood.
nah, said breadroll, don’t believe that.
surely there would have been an email, said sponge.

1, 2, 3, 4, said sponge, that’s great. i like that.
scientists had found that numbers, once arranged in the correct order, are likely the change life, time, age and balance sheets.
we better arrange a meeting, said breadroll.
we damn well will, said sponge. agenda, minutes, the works.

breadroll, block of wood and sponge went around the building, around and around and around.
i’m glad we’re doing this, said sponge, it is very important, know what i mean. extremely helpful, to others and all. 24/7. furthers the team’s project even further than any other action taken previously…
sponge stopped, and breadroll put the remote control back on the table.
it usually does not work, he said, but it did this time.

meanwhile, in the other office, something else happened. something utterly unexciting breadroll, sponge and block of wood were completely unaware of.
the sun shone.
there’s always a spreadsheet, said sponge and returned to silence.

the little lady responsible for cleaning the office had used sponge to clean the computer screen.
we all know you shouldn’t use wet objects to clean this equipment, said sponge.
he was upset for the rest of the day. block of wood spent the day in carpark downstairs, smoking, while breadroll visited the spanish vanilla tart.

i know the objective is to kill 2 birds with 1 stone, said breadroll, all i’m saying is we should take it easy and maybe try to kill 1 bird with 2 stones.
that’s a terribly depressing idea, said block of wood.
it is not really a bad type of an idea, i must say, said sponge, we should discuss it in the meeting.
they stared to the ground where a beetle was mounting a bug.

what did you say, said breadroll.
i said, i would not mind a bit of ham now, said block of wood.
neither would i, said sponge.
they had reached an agreement they all were happy with and were all happy.

what’s up.
i’m searching for a tea cup.
what for?
to pour tea into it.
who approved that?
sponge assumed the look of pride. that was me, in case you asked.
breadroll had asked and appreciated the answer. block of wood was happy having found an innovative cup that would hold a little more than the norm.

desert. the final box. these are the voyages of sponge and his continuing mission to wake up breadroll, seek out blokks and to boldly go…
why didn’t you record the whole thing?
well, said sponge, i thought we could make it a project, like, finding out what happened.
that’s a terrible idea.
on days like this sponge felt very alone, and in his mind he depicted a cross, made entirely of bread, a block of wood as a foot rest and a beer can as the shiny head piece.
now hang on, where does the beer come into the equation?
after the = sign, i’ll drop you an email.

said sponge.
said breadroll.
said block of wood.
sad, said silence, a bit of head, a bit of ache, and the crew is knocked out.

the sun rose to a morning and did not pay attention to any details. there weren’t any.
sponge, breadroll and block of wood did exercise to open their meridians.
once they’re open, said sponge, we have some tea.
all cheered and jolly puns penetrated the air.

it has been a long time since breadroll had had his encounter with the spanish vanilla tart.
she now was standing outside in the rain.
i like most of them when they’re soft and moist, said breadroll, butter me, blokk.

in the office, sponge wet on a chair, wanting to be sat on.
elle a chaude au cul, he said.
meanwhile a man walked out of a shop in rathmines where he had bought a newspaper. he went home, made himself a cup of herbal tea and proceeded to read the paper.

are we almost there?
dunno. all looks the same to me.
what?
i said, i have no idea?
do you have change?
yep.
block of wood proceeded to purchase a can of coke.
sponge was trying to reached a point where he could handle breadroll’s affection for the vanilla tart. i try to reach this point, he said.

with cream, lots, said breadroll, when they got to the point.
thing is, said sponge, you mabe your point but it should be discussed in a meeting.

i don’t think that’s the point here, said block of wood.
they sat on a bench in midst of the vanilla tart. the sun shone, silence was looming around the corner.
the sun still shone when sponge had swallowed a bite and started to speak. i think we got very far so far, he said, we should consult the bench.
sun, silence, three on a bench.

will you have sprouts, said block of wood.
i reckon i start off with savoury scones, said breadroll, anything else would be a little bit heavy and too much on my plate.
they were quiet as was the tart. the cream had long settled and was about to turn into a bitter hag. the prospects were not good at all.
to speed things up we’ll have just a bun to start with, said breadroll, and the tart smiled a cheesy grin.
it is never too early for a beer, said sponge.

at some stage, said sponge, we should swap the bench for a sofa. we also should tell us each other our favourite words.
paperclip, said block of wood.
hotcross, said breadroll.
thirsty, said sponge.

- will there be a priest?
- no. just a minister, but with training in spiritual food poisoning and sacrosanct process modules, years of experience apparently. there’s also a limit on cream puffs, should you choose to throw more than a dozen.
well that’s grand, said sponge, i drum a rhythmic pattern on block of wood and you dance, stag. i shall handle the door knob.

seamus brandon. but you can call me remus. uncle remus actually. boy, you’ve grown. last time i saw you they used you only on the smallest specks, and now look at you. that’s how many years now? at least if not more i’d say.
sponge always had seen himself as an adventurer and explorer, ready and willing to seek out and explore the most remote areas, but never before had this dream included the exploration of pluto and the alpha centauri region. he felt ready now to take up the struggle and go on that very journey, to leave.

- that’s a hard one.
- benches are hard on you, that’s what they are supposed to be.
breadroll did not look delighted. why is that, he said, nobody will sit on you, sponge, the bench is too hard.
they’ll come, said sponge, when they see me, moist and soft.
not warm though, said block of wood.

breadroll, sponge and block of wood were waiting for a train. there won’t be one today, said breadroll, not today anyway.
how do you know?
the loudspeaker just announced it, said block of wood. you can’t trust the loudspeakers in this country, said breadroll, they’re in with the benches. all the seats.
the bench i talk to, said sponge, is very elaborate and of beechwood.

1.25 and 1.25 and 1.25, that’s 3 of us, said sponge and the others nodded. we worked this out very well, although the correct fare would be 1.70, he said, there will be some walk involved. 1.25 is a much nicer number though, isn’t it.
yes, said breadroll.
yes, said block of wood, there will be grub present when we arrive.
nothing like a drain to down, said sponge, if i may conclude with a bun.
with jeeze, said block of wood.
and jives and jones, said sponge.

breadroll, sponge and block of wood had fallen asleep on the train. as the journey was paid for all the way to the last stop nobody cared waking them up. on the way back nobody saw a reason to wake them up as they had not reached their destination and hence the purpose of public transportation seemed defeated.
so let’s get up and wake, said breadroll, and amen said block of wood.
my leg’s asleep, said sponge.

breadroll: i am starving. that’s how hungry i am.
block of wood: i feel a bit stiff as if i swallowed a stick. i should get it seen.
sponge: i am dry as my mouth. not good. what if somebody sits down. not good.
having decided against walking they waited for a train. a train was not announced let alone in sight. the night seemed spoilt rotten.

there are no trains on weekends, said the hole in the window with a man behind it, no trains at all, and we have decided it’s the weekend as of now, so there’ll be no trains.
once again, there are no train on weekends, no trains at all, and as a decision has been made with regard to the beginning of the weekend stating that the starting point for the weekend and the related no-train phase of our service portfolio has to be decided on, a further decision has been made to start the weekend as of now it is the weekend now and and subsequently there’ll be no trains as of now. let me repeat this, there are no trains at all on weekends, no trains on the weekends whatsoever, to make this clear, no trains at all, and as a decision has been made on the beginning of weekends due to the apparent need of such a decision leaving it at the discretion of the management to determine the starting point for the weekend and the connected no-train phase a further decision has been made necessary to start the weekend as of now, it is the weekend now and and hence there’ll be no train service will be available as of now. we apologise for any inconvenience caused.
i reckon there won’t be a train any time soon, said sponge, in fairly minor insight but i have been lauded for less.

it is so dark this morning, said block of wood, how come?
that’s the time change, said sponge, hole turned into peak.
alright, said block of wood, that’s phantastic.
sponge stared at the wall. so did the others.

and now, said breadroll, what now?
exactly, said block of wood, what now? what can we do?
chase question marks, said sponge, perhaps?

magnificent, said block of wood, chasing question marks, isn’t it?
chasing question marks? bit naff no whattom zen, pursuing answer sign posts sounds better, said breadroll, however, for a start, definititely a starter.
they watched bent burghers fading around corners and commented on burghers fading around corners.
it certainly takes the edge off, said sponge.

it is a bus, said sponge, and not a myth. you do not have to slay the driver and steal his ring. just give him the fair fareinstead of a maiden and we’re off.
after the break, said the driver.

on the bench again. breadroll nimbled his crust, block of wood applied polish wax to his forehead. sponge cleaned a fleck off the window.
nice and clean, he said.
the lights went green.
sponge considered poetry as an option.

the exit? see that lady there? right beside her, to the left.
finally somebody who knows what he’s talking about, said sponge.

breadroll, sponge and block of wood: on a bench again.
there’s got to be a meeting somewhere sometime.
i assume we know what we are waiting for, said block of wood.
we do said sponge.

there has to be something to do, said sponge, something with a meaning and a bit of purpose on top of top or even on the side, a few tables to populate, a few appointments to discuss, whatever meeting is there to be held and requirements to be met, i and we will hold and meet. Going forward.
that’s soo sweet, said breadroll.

that’s what you get for being eager, sponge said to breadroll who just had stepped into a puddle and looked soaked.
at least it was not a poodle dooh, said breadroll.
exactly, said block of wood, it could have been a bigger dog even.
i’m glad we identified the problem, said sponge, we should make an announcement.

it is friday and a good one, too, said breadroll.
we may as well go home, said block of wood, it all seems to be shuttered and barred.
that’s the way to go, most defo, said sponge. alas, they all felt and agreed that it was too early to leave or drop a punch line.
there be no drinking now tonight, said sponge, as our lord was cruzified today and you didn’t see him falling all over the place and be all rowdy.
there was no pub in the area either, said breadroll, and the pints were cheaper. probably larger as well. traditional pints after all, none of that modern stuff.
speaking of which, said block of wood, they sell a fabulous soup in the pub over there.
exactly, said sponge.
let’s have some soup, said block of wood.
that’s a brilliant idea, said sponge, after all it’s friday and it’s a good one.

and that he wanted an easter egg, breadroll said, and now and quick and that there were none, not today, sponge said and hence a big row started, a fierce fight during which blokk managed to whack sponge and breadroll at the same time.
all joy and happiness can be expected tomorrow, said sponge, when we proceed to list items.

o head so sore and wounded, said block of wood. twas a good whacking.
it was indeed said breadroll, indeed it was, but i don’t know much to say.
i do not have much to say for myself, said sponge.
neither, said block of wood.
that’s a good thing, said sponge, we have all items we need to list. no need to come up with some.

a few more i’d say, said breadroll. he sat in a corner counting rectangular bricks. these bricks there, he said, would those be issues for the items report or items of the issues report.
depends how you look at it, i suppose, said block of wood.
in any case, finding the answer should definitely mentioned in the achievements list.

i thought we had a report there as well, said breadroll.
to be compiled, said block of wood, the achievements report is a big thing.
it’s huge, said sponge, we have to outline quite some stuff and do further updates to point out issues we’ve identified. that’s nothing to be taken lightly. we also have a bun to devour at lunchtime.

there’s one, said block of wood, and another one.
that’s not an item, said breadroll, that’s an issue again.
no, it’s not.
yes it is.
no it isn’t.
yes it is.
guys, said sponge, where is your team spirit.
(in fact he said spiwit as this week’s charity campaign asked to pay two euro and mock people who cannot say their r‘s — no matter how hard they try — neither cAPITAL nor Lowercase.)

and this charity, said breadroll.
yes, said sponge, what about it?
that’s what i’m asking, said breadroll.
you didn’t ask, said block of wood.
i was about to, said breadroll.
we are meant to mock people that can’t say their r’s too well, said sponge, which is a challenging task as we don’t really have people like this in the office, do we.
the tea cup in operations would be one, said breadroll.
nah, he’s a fake, said block of wood, i heard him saying rodion raskolnikov just recently. not a bother on him.
it is a demanding environment we’re in, said sponge.

now, we have the item report, said breadroll. shall we review and continue with the issue report?
well, that depends, said block of wood.
exactly, said sponge, on the policy.
right before he was able to specify aforementioned policy in depth and at length, word came the silence had broken out.
three items in front of an issue of the report, in a row, quiet.

we don’t need to give in, just because silence had broken out and maybe on the way to the office, sponge said to the block of wood and breadroll, there is no logical reason why she should turn up here, in all fairness, i mean look at this place, would you want to be here if you didn’t have to?
neither is there any other reason, he said.
he turned around and petrified. a spreadsheet on statistical probabilities arrived in the emailbox.

do you think the answer is on the spreadsheet, breadroll said to sponge, pointing at the spreadsheet and holding off block of wood wanting to hump his leg.
probably, said sponge, with or without silly puns. just have a look.
string not found.
again.
string not found.
did you try searchterm, said sponge, search term. search. term. which is exactly what we do. search. term. we search a term. term search ‘searchterm’.
no result.
now, when was this sheet updated last, said breadroll.
there’s an issue, said sponge, and we identified it. we should discuss it. whatever we i identify i mean to say.it should be what we are searching for.
silence. tea maybe, but not a word.

a tiny wind was let breezing over the desk’s flatitude. it not dare to whistle, let alone howl. it did not see much point in doing so, it did not see much point in being a wind. however, as it had signed a contract – entered into an agreement as they say – and a contract is a contract is a contract — fullstop period — silence reigned.
breadroll, sponge and block of wood asked to be mentioned. favour granted. can you top that?

because it was breezing in a rather dull way,
because it demanded constant attention,
because it was not quite loved,
because it did not have a work permit the little wind was let go and replaced with vending machine.
it does have nice chocolate in it, said breadroll.
and cake, said block of wood.
a-shut up, said breadroll, won’t you.
wet towels, said sponge.
the bonus is chatterboxed, de nada this year, said silence, what d’you think?.
sponge: mvbvoeh b e.
breadroll: eowtzbfosks xjwpw xi kkrhst ztb xpx dn.
block of wood: caemuo ii amvuyri xl.

tequila and all, said sponge, it’s the may holiday. all that should be involved. prudently. where are the days when we used to frogmarch and chase eachother and be sat on? gone. outsourced. finito.
breadroll ciabatta intelligentia.
block of wood ikea practicability plus efficiency mingled with beechwood.
sponge alessi desaster but the cups do look great.

breadroll, sponge and block of wood were walking down the road, just like the old days.
and do you remember, said breadroll.
i never gave back my membership card, block of wood, no need to remember. besides. you dropped me an email.
that’s true, too, said breadroll, so, how are you getting on with the report?
i’m getting there, said block of wood.
at the corner they turned. at the next corner: same again. we are on the right way, said sponge, i should be able to tell. i printed the description.
it’ll be a long report though, said block of wood, once we are at that stage of finalising. when we get there.
three protagonists looking melancholic.

breadroll was wondering whether there was a policy on reports. is there, he said, is there, to emphasise his need and nose for news.
no reply.
block of wood a block of cellulose.
sponge unavailable, most likely important, selfmotivated task; otherwise: foamy material of undefined origin — probably imported. due to essential and long scheduled, essential and essential maintenance work on the main database replies unfortunately can be processed at this point in time but shortly, however, no earlier than tomorrow.

14.56 1,405.90
1,635.99 3,340.09
5,155.82 183,051.14
1,055.80 1,572.48
1,661.72 550.21
316.88 868.74
1,360.20 54.54
ahh, that’s lovely, said breadroll.
it is, isn’t it, said block of wood. he admired the figures. so petite, almost like figurines.
and that was a pun again, said sponge, a stupid one, if i may comment. asinine, so to speak.
i am in bad form today, said block of wood, why is it anyway that breadroll gets to have the opening line, each and every single time.
he doesn’t, said sponge.
he does, said block of wood.
that’s because of the alphabet, said sponge.

if you asked me would i want to be tortured, i’d probably say no, puss willow said, you know, it’s not being unsociable or what, it’s more the inconvenience involved — i simply wouldn’t be on for that, to tell the truth — no offence; but now that i happen to be in an american bar i rather put up with the cherry in my martini.

there’s nothing on tv tonight, absolutely nothing, de nada. a bleak screen, a few colours alright, some motion and some noise. and that’s about it. i swear to god.
consumers having been surprised about meeting pussy willow in the pub again were fairly satisfied with this explanation.

o jolly o golly day, said breadroll.
you name it, said block of wood, o boy o boy o my o my.
the word of the day, said sponge, just came through, it is very embarrasing and won’t be revealed until tomorrow. they have to do some tweaking there. some editing as we go along i suppose.
that’s a shame, the other two said, we shall whack you then and proceed to some word processing.
good plan, said sponge, i wet myself, sit on a chair and wait until somebody takes a seat.

you may flatten me, said sponge, but you cannot, err …
what, said blokk.
not yet, i haven’t worked that bit out, yet, said sponge, i am just counting the minutes of the meeting. in compliance with the latest hr policy i shall start with a rather small number and work my way up, trying to increment in small consecutive steps.
good, said blokk.
very good, said breadroll.
excellent, said blokk.
outstanding, said breadroll.
it was an early hour of reasonable fun.

we still are waiting for our word of the day, said breadroll.
i think you can imagine how we are waiting, said block of wood, it has some business impact at this stage.
yes, i am aware of that, said sponge.
a shame, said breadroll.
yes, i am aware of that, said sponge, it’s scheduled for friday now. for they moment we are asked to pick one of these:

bondsman proponent drill belove nectar judaism cycle necrosis upbring ascetic varitype vocal elmsford contest sextant wiery bolshevism macgregor telltale continuum

o, that stuff, said block of wood, now, that’s though.
we figure something out, said sponge.

bondsman drills proponent while the necrosis of an ascetic upbringing varitypes at the elmsford vocal contest.

lined up in a row they made a move in their jollily sad way.

the sun was shining, shone on mr. willow’s forehead. the large forehead bathed in light. mr. willow was out to get greenery, grocery, shoppings and bits. he successfully ticked off the first 3 items on the list when he realised that money was short and queues were long.
that is a good example, he said, why nothing is working in this country. there we go again. no idea why that happens all the time with the superb job the government is doing.

and now, sponge said, as we have summarised the week — and duly i should add — we shall proceed with it. in a desirably timely manner.
that’s a good plan, said breadroll.
well, actually, sponge said, there is no plan. we have to make one first.
make one, said block of wood.
yes, sponge said, make one, a plan, quick.
make one, said block of wood. early hours: two words.
a plan, sponge said, we’ve got to think.
think.
think. — harder.
three sunk into nothingness.

on the breakfast table. butter was there, leaned against the teapot, and melting. others choose not to draw attention to their personal or neutral material life.
have we come to a conclusion, said breadroll, and if so, what is it and would it be helpful for the process of coming to a decision?
that’s two questions, said block of wood.
and it’s already wednesday, said breadroll.
now after clarifying where we stand could we please bloody well proceed with the blooming week then, said sponge.
they agreed that this was a rather unusual and uncomely remark that should have been discussed with the team.

nothing we will do today, absolutely and entirely nothing, said breadroll.
can i not butter you a bit, said block of wood, just slightly?
no you can’t, said breadroll, there is no policy for that.
come on now lads, sponge said, we’ve got to be seriously leisure focused for the moment, sorry.

focus, focus, darling, focus focus, said breadroll and (took pleasure in the repeated repetition) reached for the butter, i wouldn’t mind to be leisurely buttered. no at all in fact. alas, in fact, there is no policy.
if there was we would still lack a procedure, said block of wood (leisurely outfit: yummy apple pie on wooden board carved with traditional patterns, obviously bordered with succulent scoop of vanilla icecream, sided with roast potatoes).
non of that business now, this is serious business and we’ve got to be serious about it. let’s have a bite.
a breadroll, a sponge and a block of wood were rushing down the street, around the corner and into the shop. a breadroll, a block of wood and a sponge were seen rushing out of the shop, around the corner, over the street and into the house and people started talking about the fact that they were actually rushing into the house without rushing out of it before, however, talks ceased quite quickly after a while.

the sunday saw puss willow in bed where he stayed until he got up. he hoggered, he had a shower, he took a seat on the couch.
the same sunday saw the neighbour engaged in almost similiar activity, in a slightly altered sequence. the neighbour had a shower before he hoggered as he preferred it this way.

mary had a little lamb, said sponge, we are all delighted for her but do hope that next time it’ll be a girl. now with joseph joining the circle of the unlicky with a lillte piglet i think we are quite set for another channel.
or a cream bun, said breadroll.
or a cream bun, said sponge, that perfectly right.
block of wood tried to carve another channel in his back side.
make it spectacular, love.

i still don’t know how we did it the other day, said breadroll.
did what, said block of wood.
rush over the street, around the corner and into the shop, without leaving the house. ah, don’t start again, said sponge, things just cooled down nicely. we did come back though, i must say, and had nice brekkie; and they sang: that’s true, true, true, truth. truuuuth. and stilllllnessss. share a part. of the. egg. symbol of life and main ingredient of scrambled eggs. whether on toast or not.

snotsnot, she cried, and fell off the ladder. breadroll closed the book. i don’t know whether this is the right stuff to read when you’re sick, he said.
never is, naturely, said block of wood.
the cough stats are declining though, said sponge. that’s excellent. maybe snot won’t be too offensive after all.
they sang: humptydumptyhumptydump. end sequence: -ty.
and: snot she cried. snot.

well, are we going, said breadroll. the cows are home, the buns are up, sunshine marks the day.
yep, said block of wood, would be a good thing, bleedin goin, bleedin feckin well feckin gown, feckin fuck fuck.
while i appreciate your opinions as a valuable input, said sponge, the same time i shall point out the fact that we are on the move already indeed.
he pointed out a reflection in a shop window showing them meandering down the road, equipped with enough weaponry to chase a bus.

there was a fruit scare again, said breadroll, in town as it seems.
o really, block of wood, in town?
question: answer: yes.
o dear, said block of wood. his forehead appeared wrinklier than usual (sponge said: it looks plain worried. this type of worried gothic wrinkles. like a confession box, old oaken, medieval more so. (breadroll: different opinion)).
in town, said block of wood, bet it is fruit and fibre again.
it is indeed, said breadroll, isn’t it.
could you pass me the butter please, said sponge.

that fibre is was good for him puss willow wanted to read in the regulars section of the local paper but to no avail. that fibre was good for him there was no mention of it.
is fibre good for? you?
puss willow poured himself a fresh cup of coffee.
is java good for you? is reading? reading old newspapers indeed good for you?
a dog had finished its business and trotted on. the scenery changed into something more comfortable: south. sun.
children throwing stones at the dog. pooh roasting in the sun. bonedry in a sec. burnable. would you be up for that?

o dear, the report, said breadroll, is it that time of the day again.
i’m afraid …, said sponge.
so am i, said block of wood.
it is, said sponge.
indeed, said block of wood.
o dear, said breadroll, and all that with this big huge unresolved issue on our backs.
ah, forget about the flakes will you, said sponge, they’re harmless. twas just a scare after all. let’s hurry now.
three walked down the road in order to consume conditioned air.
(this is so stupid, said sponge.)

so, we’re off again, said breadroll.
yes, said sponge.
agreed, said block of wood.
approved, said breadroll.
excellent comment, said sponge.
they watched a sugar lump attempting to mount a teaspoon.

hard to say, said sponge, block of wood once tried to hump a pitchfork. a disaster, as you may imagine.
indeed, said block of wood, but that was long ago, before we met like. nothing on file there.
there wasn’t, was there, said breadroll.
the sugar lump almost made it.
almost, said sponge.

almost almost, said breadroll, almost almost.
sugar cube struggled to mount the tea spoon.
he’s struggling, said breadroll.
i think we discussed this before, said block of wood.

did we, said sponge.
yes, said breadroll.
quite in detail, said block of wood.
did we come to a conclusion, said sponge, a final one? we’ve got to have a final conclusion, we could not do without.
that’s true (agreement: unisono). the conclusion.
let’s jump into one quickly, said breadroll.

con con con con con con con con con con con con con con, said breadroll.
lotion, said block of wood.
and we jumped right into it, said sponge, a stain that’ll stay.
stay-ay-ay-ay, said breadroll.
what’s wrong with him, said block of wood.
he’s just excited, said sponge, about all the exciting innovations we are about to focus on today, let alone the improvements.
that’s good, said blokk and knocked breadroll over with a blow of utmost brutality.

there was a phone call for you, said breadroll, yesterday or today, some time, would not be tomorrow as there is no day in it.
was there, said sponge, a phone call.
yes, said breadroll, a phone call. for you as well. and one for the wood. the one i was talking about earlier today actually. one each, at least to say the least.
o dear o dear, said block of wood, o dear. i didn’t expect a phone call all in a sudden, leperleper.
ah, not to worry, said sponge, sure, they’ll ring again when the time is right. they all ring again. always; some even don’t. they had training on that.
the phone rings. three stare cases (pillow cases, boxes of chocolates).

breadroll had spilt coffee, tea, beer, wine, schnaps and a brownish liquid of obscure origin on the breakfast table.
we let one liquid chase the other and finally let them all come together as one, he said (breadroll said this sentence which may have been a little bit too long for breadroll at this time in the morning but still somehow fits the pattern and hence was used).
you deserve some coleslaw, said block of wood.
they observed the liquids mingling.
how do we remove the stains though, said breadroll.
with coleslaw, said block of wood.
keep me posted on that one, said sponge.

there is an important — plainly outstanding meeting today, said sponge, with venison, mutton and game.
there should be slices of bread as well, said block of wood.
somebody important to meet, said breadroll, he’s going to bone us should we fail to bone him first. boning, the full program. we should practice movements, too, for a change.
will you keep me in the loop, said sponge, wet and porous, all beefed up.
i can’t wait to be boned, can i, he said.

keep me posted on that. keep me posted on that. keep me posted on that. keep me posted on that. keep me posted on that. keep me posted on that. keep me posted on that. keep me posted on that. keep me posted on that. keep me posted on that. keep me posted on that. keep me posted on that. pleeeaaaase. keep me posted on that. keep me posted on that.
i’ve got mail, said sponge.
breadroll and block of wood had entered slow motion the day before and now executed previously planned movements.
yes, said sponge, the yes.
breadroll and block of wood: yeeeeeeeeees.

definitely turkish delight, said sponge, i know the soapy taste and creamy texture when i come across the sensation. he paused and admired the loops.
definitely, said breadroll, triangular.
most definitely, said block of wood, most loops are. these days anyway. speaking of which, nevertheless, we should go now.
before, said breadroll.
the loop reaches the, said block of wood, 3rd corner.
maybe it’s rectangular after all, said sponge.

shane, the sun is shining or shone, should you see fit to consult the window. puss willow had decided not to talk to the chair again but found it difficult to follow his decision through.

we managed to get up this morning, said sponge.
that’s, said breadroll, good.
that’s, said block of wood, positive.
having said that the three sat down and commenced to list breakfast items for further assessment.
what’s the target date, a voice on tv said. no answer. three positioned themselves in a row, sat on chairs, smiled. broad smile, expansive smile. to be reviewed.
we may not get very far, said sponge, this morning, we’ve been further, other morns it twas.

let’s kill 2 birds with 1 stone, said sponge — into the void as the others (2) were fast asleep.
i try again, said sponge, again again.

why don’t we kill 1 bird with 2 stones, said sponge.
that, said block of wood, still would leave us with the problem where to get stones.
as they are a maturity, said breadroll.
minority, said block of wood.
minority, said breadroll.
utilising them would, said block of wood, rather could result in racial tension.
let alone the ban on smoking , said breadroll.
exactly, said block of wood.
i see, said sponge, is there any coffee left?
plenty, said breadroll.

it did not go down too well, said breadroll, with the birds, they are a bit quiet this morning.
yes, said block of wood, bit quiet.
tea or, said sponge, coffee.
to have a good start in the day they decided to review the layout of the breakfast items on the breakfast table.
coffee would be, said breadroll, great. i’ll have tea. green.

confined to a small compartment beside the cupboard our 3 friends and breakfasters, protagonists of the famous and infamous reports (being the favourite program for some) had time to think and neither coffee nor tea, let alone juice, in plentiful supplies.
i think we went too far, said sponge.
think so, said breadroll, too.
we’ve got to make sure, said sponge, we fully understand the new policy on bugging birds.
we’ve got, said block of wood, to.
they looked in different directions and sent emails.

looking in different directions won’t help, said sponge, either, neither me nor you.
true, too, said breadroll.
neither will sending emails, said sponge, in the loop or not, and that’s the truth of it.
we rather look in one direction, all in one, said block of wood, i think, methinks, so, too. true.
much more productive, said sponge, truly more.
more effective, too, said breadroll.
effictive seems to be the right word to use, said block of wood, right thing to say.
now, said breadroll, we seem to be through.
true, said block of wood.
seems true, said sponge.
between seeming and seamstress is more than our school philosophy’s agnes amateur lizard bunny corp demands, said breadroll.
they settled on that.

it is good to be out and about again, said sponge.
breadroll agreed and so did block of wood.
as an agreement had been readhed they went on a search for the next point on the agenda.
it must be around somewhere, said sponge.

shall we, said breadroll.
they should.
as the project progressed they all (=3) went ahead and were very happy with it.
sponge sent email as if there was no tomorrow and otherwise waited to be sat on while breadroll and block of wood were counting items. not too many, not enough. the allocation, distribution flooding of the market could prove to be a problem, at least a challenge.
that’s only natural, said block of wood.
and forecasted, said breadroll.
we are improving after all, said sponge, on a 8/5 basis.

talked lots spake nods a mouthful of speech, that is that, the end otherwise. each of you, delighted now, shall rot further. the man turned and left. gone.
a bit brusk, said breadroll, people nowadays, no shame.

egg, said sponge, egg eggy.
with egg, an egg, on egg, said breadroll, egged, egg sandwich.
the possibilities are, said block of wood, endless; as the object somewhat resembles the shape of a globe, a malformed one. ovo oval so to speak.
egg salad, said breadroll, traditional.
tradition is always a good thing, said sponge, and i admire the egg salad tradition this great country has to offer. a seller.
has something to do with st.patrick, said block of wood, he chased the chicken out of the house.
traditional celtic egg salad, said breadroll.
[they smile. camera zooms out. cut.]

i am the eggman, said the walrus.
the plagiarism did not go unnoticed, breadroll had heard it and so had block of wood. they were shocked.
that’s plagiarism, said breadroll.
there is only 1 eggman, said sponge. he looked around. triumphantly. with a grin in his face. a silly grin, plain silly if we may say so but that is sponge for you, sponge as we know him.
you should have got a patent on this phrase, said breadroll.
we’ve been telling you, said block of wood.
i am the walrus, said the eggman.
the 3 scheduled a meeting asap.

that was a swift ending, said block of wood.
bit abrupt, too, said breadroll.
we leave it then with the egg, said sponge, they were badly presented anyway.

shaven and showered, as excellence requires.
asi am wet now, said sponge, i may as well sit on a chair and have people sit on me. hours of endless fun.
hours, said breadroll.
ages, said block of wood.

not yet defined, i should say, said breadroll.
you should actually, said block of wood.
shouldn’t it be agreed on as well, said sponge.
the cold, empty spreadsheet of bleakness appeared on the screen.

feed me, said the spreadsheet.
no reaction. who answers to a spreadsheet?
could you pass me the butter, please, said breadroll.
sandwich spread, said block of wood.
butter he said, said sponge.
a clear statement, said breadroll.
they remained seated.

we’ve got to severely finish them rhinos, said sponge, off.
quite awkward this morning, said breadroll, aren’t we.
he was and they were and all of them and hence ready to engage intercoursingly (fuck) with everyone in the corporate world (office) whichever video was shown during the length of a presentation (to make a powerpoint and pay a fiver straight and without complaints like last time straight into the pun penalty box, as block of wood rightly points out just when the image fades for another round of sleep).

the rhinos first and then the happy hippos, said sponge, why are they happy anyway, they’re not getting paid for it, and now, on top of all that, even wilder bees on the jam. he wrinkled his forehead.
that’s a nice thing to do, said breadroll, throw some wrinkles on your forehead, a handful of a good selection.
stylish set, said block of wood, shall we make a move?
they stayed. flies, not bees, were flying against the window. doing so they made neat sounds.

(sometimes demands are thrown at you as if there was no tomorrow aka it came out of fashion; days like this are commonly known as demanding days aka hard days in the office aka cheesus feckin christ whatta day i’m absolutely exhausted)
is there any coffee left, said block of wood.
could you pass me tyhe butter, said breadroll.
should we make more or less demands, said block of wood.
there is no cheese, said breadroll.
so do i, said sponge, if i get a chance.
the sun shone on a sponge, breadroll and a block of wood rocking a chair.

tea, said sponge, leaves stains.
so does coffee, said breadroll.
i go for tea, said block of wood, regardless.
persistence is the prime quality, said sponge, of the ideal process-oriented administrator.
and the stains come out, said breadroll, no problem, if you aggressively target them.

the first day of a month is always, almost always, a pleasant or rather exciting event that brings to cheers all joes and does and irishmen, plainly uplifting that day, puss willow said, the count is reset, it starts anew. i personnally find it amazing how they manage every month to get the day right.
that’s 3.90 for the pint, said the waitress.
puss willow paid and left. he returned later during the day when he had fully learned that the pint had been immaculate — im-ma-cu-late pint.

3 hopeless hopalongs — as usual in a rush, despite the rashers rush spicy pork products cause to sensitive posterior openings — frogmarched down the road.
we’ve been here before, said block of wood.
and as before, said sponge, we should make a new start.
headstart, said breadroll.
whole body, said sponge, whatever. i think it is exciting and i’d like to thank you for sharing this exciting time with me and us. it is so exciting.
it certainly is, said breadroll, and it places us in a good position.
strong position, said block of wood.
strong position, said breadroll.
3 hopeless hopalongs frogmarched down the road, frog frog marchmarch.

rather than marching the frogs, said blokk, we should pump them full of air and step of them.
effectively burst them, said breadroll.
and what about the mess, said sponge, who’s going to clean that up?
that’s right, said block of wood, didn’t think of that. brutality; not violence.
that’s why i get to write the minutes of the meeting, said sponge, and you don’t.

another morning had dawned: bright, blued, however, partially clouded sky: world keeps on turning.
i wish it was a short week, said sponge.
short short short short short short short, said breadroll.
i repeat thus i am, said sponge, i shall repeat this some time. where is block of wood? still on the loo loo loo?

here we are, said sponge, back on track, coming on strong, like a bull in the china shop.
indeed, said breadroll, an exciting something.
we should poke eachother in the eye, said blokk, to celebrate the event.
we do that then, said sponge.
is that it? goodgod, that’s a very short episode, said breadroll.

this episode is even shorther, said sponge, all i want to say is that we, that is breadroll, block of wood and yours truly are not in a position … but you know that shit anyway.

that seems to be the shortest episode ever, said sponge, nothing happening.
approved, said breadroll.
agreed, said block of wood.
gosh, said sponge, i didn’t expect you guys around that hour of the day.

that’s really it for now, said sponge.
he was all set and so were breadroll and block of wood. can you say less in less words?

now. that’s really it then, is it, said sponge and smirked.

so this is it then, said breadroll, that’s a little bit disappointing, i was sort of hoping there will be more, you know what i mean.
i can see what you mean, said block of wood. they positioned themselves around the table which was not round but had rounded corners (isn’t that a contradiction in terms, breadroll will remark at some point in the near future, however, in a different context but nevertheless we thought it would be worth mentioning it.)
there should have been a review, said breadroll.
a review of some sort of shape, said block of wood.
exactly, said breadroll, we better inform sponge.
where is he anyways, said block of wood.
gone for a walk, said breadroll.

breadroll gazed into the void.
the void, he said.
close the fridge, said block of wood, so he’s gone for a walk, isn’t he. is that corporate policy or just some private enterprise?
policy rocks, said breadroll, it should be a policy, alas i reckon it is just a process.
process yes, said block of wood.
all in a sudden sponge entered the room, brushed and otherwise also neatly cleaned.
how was the walk, said breadroll.
which walk, said sponge.
the walk, said block of wood.
breadroll and block of wood stared at sponge while sponge stared at breadroll and block of wood. between staring and counterstaring the void bore a new day.

(voice still looping:new day new day new day new day new day new day)
can somebody stop the voice, said breadroll.
i wouldn’t know what to do, said block of wood. they looked at sponge who poured himself a cup of tea. they watched him pour milk into his tea.
once you’re finished with your cuppa, said breadroll, would you mind to stop this voice?
once i’m finished i’ve got to have another one, said sponge, do you like the new calendar? an innovation.

novelty or not, said sponge, we’ve got to make sure that consistence is persistent at all times, 24/7, 52/365, 60/1, at all cost.
that’s new, said breadroll.
no it is not said block of wood.
it is so, said breadroll.
nothing less than that, said sponge. he yawned. the yawn was designed to illustrate the fatigue i feel, he said, when discussing the novelty of innovations, and i reckon i did a pretty good job.
painfully obvious. he had a stern and driven expression in his face.
obviously we need to discuss the terms. said breadroll.

terms and conditions, said sponge, as and-slash-or if applicable, apply. naturally. comply.
that is usually the case, said breadroll, or at least almost always. most of the time.
something gave sponge the impression that a productive conversation would not take place today. he told the others about his impression. anything special on the agenda, he said, going forward?
only tomorrow, said block of wood, but we should be able to postpone that until the next day.
they had tea.

so we had tea and there was this bloke who had a piece of cake but i didn’t tell the others about it, i went and smashed his nose and took the cake all for myself. i don’t like cake. that not the problem. i don’t know what the problem might be. block of wood had finished the cake and looked around. where is everybody, he said. i should write a book about that. i have to wait and see. that could be a book, too.

(on stage; a summary (query: why is the title not ‘a summary’? answer: it refers only to the first few lines); stage bare, 3 chairs.)
innovation, said sponge.
excitement, said breadroll.
outlook, said block of wood, tco and btl.
without having progressed towards the ultimate target, said sponge, i shall say we have made impressive progress so far. i don’t know about you but i am very proud. (they all are).
(they place the chairs in a row and sit down, facing the audience.)
wasn’t there supposed to be a curtain at some stage, now after we’ve said final words, said breadroll.
not yet, said sponge.

we know how to build a spreadsheet, we had the training.
1. sunshine. is it
a. useful
b. helpful
c. on the agenda.
who put that there, said sponge.
you asked for it, said breadroll.
no. you did, sid block of wood.
true, said breadroll, but he’s the leader.
true, said sponge.
2. innovation. is it
a. necessarily new as such
b. novel
c. unexampled.
not exampled as such, said breadroll.
not entirely as such, said block of wood, as in fairly novel.
should we have changed our choices then, said sponge and switched the light off before anyone could answer. end of story. (oldest trick in this book and others.).

we have to come to terms, said sponge, with that word.
agreement, said breadroll.
block of wood nodded. he poured himself a cup of tea. he nodded again when he took the cup. a little blow. it’s very hot, he said.
innovation, said sponge, really. as a term: beastly.
i see, said breadroll.

you know which word has been an item on the agenda for quite a while now which has not been addressed yet and there was no use in denying it.
i reckon we’re fine, said sponge, as the business changes so we continually review our agenda and terminological methodology to ensure that both meet the needs of the business. some recent enhancements have been made to introduce some value added tools as well as to improve the process.
the other two had little to add.
excellent work, they said matteroffactishly.

trullalulalallalu, i make poopoo what do you. a song is a way to start the day, hey.
how come he’s so happy, said block of wood.
it’s spreadsheet wednesday, said sponge, a charity thing. tea?
yes please.
so, any new about coming to terms with the words and stuff?
no. we need the spreadsheet otherwise and that’s all there is to it.
who placed the spreadsheet there so unevenly, said breadroll.
he did, said sponge.
he did, said block of wood.
i am going to bring this up in the next meeting, said breadroll, that’s not on and it puts me off. in a continuing effort to maximise our ability to grow and successfully meet the needs of our agenda, a spreadsheet must at all times be effectively organised and aligned with the breakfast tableplace.
we have tea on that, said block of wood.

no. i am not going to say that. sponge was serious, stern and committed.
breadroll and block of wood said, they liked his commitment and loved his determination but the line was there in the script, a fact they — unfortunately — could not change.
to whisper it maybe?
no.

not saying anything, said breadroll, won’t get you anywhere.
neither will saying something, said block of wood.
the bus will though, said breadroll.
only if he decides to get up and get going, said block of wood.
i won’t be going anything anywhere, said sponge, that’s next week. or tomorrow. i don’t remember.
o, tomorrow, is it, said breadroll.
or next week, said block of wood.
they were looking forward to an entire day spent laughing and talking about the little lapse.

ooh look, they searching for us, said breadroll.

search?hl=en&lr=&q=block+and+wood+are+alive

and yes there is to say we are, pretty much so after an exhausting morning, so, what are we on for, said sponge. (block of wood was not in this episode. he was supposed to be on holidays somewhere else. all in the second series which have not been shown on national tv yet.) puss willow thought he did not have to watch this and switched off. mistake. no tv was even worse. rubbish, he said, who would look for that? block of wood is alive, and breadroll. rubbish. should be out by wednesday.

we are striving towards excellence — centered and focused — however, we should not forget to constantly review ourselves and wait on chairs to be sat on.
and count paper clips, said breadroll.
the plastic ones, said block of wood.
yes, said sponge, count paper clips.
what about populating cells in a spreadsheet, said breadroll.
approved, said sponge.

i love populating spreadsheets, said breadroll.
leave some for others, said sponge.
for me as well, said block of wood.
one day i’ll have my own spreadsheet, said breadroll.
unfortunate outcome of this seemingly innocent incident: mood had dropped while tension had slightly risen.

we have issues to discuss and we don’t do it.
we have meeting to attend and we don’t do it.
we have reports to file and we don’t do it.
what are we doing, said sponge.
tea, said block of wood.
yesplease, said sponge.
we are brilliant with the old paper clip, said breadroll.
that’s right actually, said sponge, forgot about that. so, that’s on the positive side then.
3 that in one sentence, said breadroll.
3 in 3, said block of wood.
that’s acceptable, said sponge.

noway. really, said sponge, that’s amazing.
way. breadroll had just told the story of the man who had a cup of coffee and then another cup of coffee straight afterwards, which basically meant that he had 2 cups in a row.
some people do have lives, said block of wood.

we still have to define, said sponge.
define what, said block of wood.
words, said breadroll.
terms, said sponge.

protracted silence, prolonged. silence as an outcry for speech.
the beginning of anything: sponge took a piece of paper and wrote down a word. that’s a start, he said.
the time at which something is supposed to begin: he handed the paper to breadroll who wrote down a word as well.
a sudden involuntary movement: breadroll passed the paper on to block of wood. that’s a start, he said.

a start, said sponge is only as good as the innovative thoughts that drive the continuation to a successful conclusion within competitive business targets. hence we are required to include syllables in the count.
count them?
yes. count them.
are you sure.
positive.
we didn’t get any training on syllables though, said breadroll.
not recently anyway, said block of wood.
alright, said sponge, we should mention that in the next meeting. there’s definitely an update.

i suppose, said sponge and the others listened, today will be a fairly quiet day and quickly over as we dive into the depth of short syllables on short-term contracts.
they are on contracts, said breadroll, how come?
freelancing syllables are more flexible, said sponge, and flexibility brings all these exciting and innovative visions. more than beer anyway.
block of wood stuffed some cheese into breadroll who complained about the the particular brand used. i think so, too, he said.

they all were happy to gladly agree on this.

fresh, clean, said sponge.
nothing like a freshly homemade day, said block of wood.
nothing like it, said breadroll. if we got this patented we would have a patent on it. exciting, novel.
feel like the ideas are pouring in as we speak, said sponge, i feel a phantastic subject line coming up. go ahead.
they went ahead.

clean clean clean clean clean clean clean clean clean clean clean clean clean, said breadroll, on whom the innovative power of sponge had made an impression.
that’s a novel idea indeed, he said when he peaked into the bathroom.
now, that’s fine, said breadroll cleaning himself with sponge, why don’t you put some spreadsheets on the table in the meantime.
there aren’t any. all populated, updated and reviewed.
is there tea?
there is.
good.
proceeding they made good progress.

sponge on his chair was dribbling.
does anyone have a rug, said block of wood, or a tissue?
loo roll, said breadroll.
that’ll do, said block of wood.
they paused. scenery: room. (memorise details of room during pause).
i would like to be sat on, said sponge.

once again the sun was tired of tirelessly illuminating perpetuous reiterations. pale light was shed on the scene where breadroll, sponge and block of wood had takeb on the challenge of finding the right words for most things.
the importance of the task as well as the critical impact of a possible failure had been sufficiently made clear to ensure breadroll, sponge and block of wood were fully aware of forthcoming innovations. episode’s end.

the way, said sponge, did not turn out to be as bendy as we anticipated, we should adjust our forecast, and generally speaking we are making good progress…
excellent progress, said breadroll.
excellent progress, that’s right, thank you, and we all are more than well prepared for putting one foot ahead of the other. i am aware that this may be seen as a bit of a challenge, however, i am also confident that we will master this challenge – even though the training could have been better.
blokk beat sponge, and sponge beat breadroll – for the sake of it.
after briefly discussing the reasons for aforementioned activities they continued on their way, step step.

when, said block of wood.
soon, said ponge, pretty soon, just read the memo.
it says here, said breadroll, after the next bend. does that mean we missed it.
not at all, said sponge, we just have to review our philosophy.

what are we going to do today?
not much. we’ll run around in circles.
they ran around in circles.
that’s quite enough, said sponge, let’s discuss it now, shall we?
running around in circles should be properly planned, said breadroll.
and funded, said block of wood.
they ran a few more circles.

sometimes i do wonder, said sponge, whether a circle is really the appropriate figure to display continuity in excellence.
breadroll was wondering, too. where is block of wood, he said, and pointed to the chair block of wood usually occupies, which was empty.
toilet, said sponge, not to worry. he’s not supposed to disappear.
breadroll was happy. he whistled a song.

i’m reborn, said silence.
while breadroll crumbled sponge all moist and spongy wiped the table. blokk cut ham in half and made faces at his upset look.
i was reborn and i did not want to, was happy and all quiet, said silence, but there was a shortage, someone called in sick and a poor soul was needed so here i am with the 3 — things again.

not only did you need to chatter, said sponge, but also had you have to have bowel movements. unscheduled, if i may add.
that’s what killed silence, said breadroll while block of wood was embarrassed and said nothing. there even was talk of tears.
rightly so, said sponge, he shouldn’t say anything.
no, he shouldn’t, said breadroll. unless a specific appointment requires him to do so.
exactly, said breadroll.
and only after approval, said sponge.
isn’t there a meeting soon, said breadroll.
indeed, said sponge, we should go.
they poured cups of tea and prepared a few nice words.

block of wood here is balling his eyes inside out for breaking silence in two equally sized, however somehow not consecutive pieces, if he was to get a chance naturally, very annoying sight all together, very unpleasant and noisy;
and there’s breadroll, pale and round, has stuff stuffed into him as if there was no tomorrow and day after tomorrow, in it goes, every morning, before he starts to count words;
and there’s me, rather modest creature, just want people to sit on me and say uhh it’s wet.
we are pretty good at reports though. i rest my case.

if there hadn’t been a bowel movement as the sole movement that wouldn’t have been a movement at all.
and there’s a sentence with 3 movements, said breadroll.
and 2 sentences starting with and, said breadroll.
one day, said block of wood.
since the government’s ban on motion the three were fairly stuck at a corner without a shop.

i brought you a sheep, the man said.
aa, that’s so kind of you, said breadroll.
they are looking after us, said sponge, i rang in motionless, just in case.
the variant without movement, said block of wood.
to be sure about the legal situation, said sponge.
the 3 remained motionless at the corner with a sheep.

movement. motion.
be awful if we got that wrong, said sponge.
unbelievable, said breadroll.
block of wood had tea. he poured the liquid in the cup, stirred it, added milk, observed the milk’s behaviour in the still stirred-up tea. put the spoon down. what, he said to sponge and breadroll, staring won’t get you anyway.
wouldn’t it be awful if we got that wrong, said sponge.
you are right there, said block of wood.

we got it right after all, said sponge, spoke to them and their sending a manual. it should arrive shortly in the near future.
would the sheep ever open, said breadroll.
tomorrow, said block of wood, or the other day.

and, the man said, i just came to look after the sheep. is she alright?
yes, fine, said sponge.
we’re all fine, said breadroll.
she just wouldn’t open, said block of wood, not for a pack of crisps while we’re waiting.
that’s something we need to address, the man said and walked away.

seriously, said breadroll, it should be looked into rather urgently — to paraphrase the title of this episode.
well, said sponge, there’s a process for every policy we should be happy it is that way for otherwise it’ll be different.
quite different, said block of wood.
i knew you would say this, said sponge.
so did i, said breadroll.

difference is not all, said sponge, variety is equally important.
all agreed. there is a corner, they said, and a sheep. the man is gone for the moment, we should not be concerned about him for now.
did he leave his mobile number, said breadroll.
only landline, said sponge.
that’s not much good, said breadroll.
meanwhile block of wood inspected the sheep and concluded there was a chance for it to open.
anytime soon.

when you say there was a chance, said sponge, how much of a chance is it?
fully featured, said block of wood, with bells and whistles.
what are they for, said breadroll.
to annouce whatever happened, said block of wood.
a lonely breeze whistled around the corner. that’s not it, said block of wood.

the breeze dropped a tear, and breadroll thought there would be rain soon, at least he made his colleagues believe that, as they went through great efforts to convince him (attempted persuasion) to convice him that rain would not be possible for another month or so as the owner of the corner had repeatedly failed to pay any license fee.
not licensed, sponge said, and his words stood beside the corner like a block of marble stone for the 3 to sit on.

i’m back, the man said.
so you are, said sponge.
i told you i’ll be back, the man said, didn’t i?
no, you did not, said breadroll.
well, maybe not expressively, the man said.
[customer information: advertising city breaks, return procedures, recurring events and repeated payment holiday periods].
i’m always a little bit confused after commercial breaks, said sponge.
so am i, said block of wood.

i usually get depressed, said breadroll, usually, not always though. commercials just get to me.
and now? is it the case now?
no, not too bad, said breadroll, then again … but no, there were definitely deeper depressions in the past. fully featured, tears, hysterical outbursts, letters to the editor.
what shall we do with him?
who, said breadroll.
him?
no idea, said breadroll.
who is he anyway?
vaguely i seem to remember, said breadroll, he appears to be just a man who had brought us a sheep. we didn’t order a sheep.
the others?
sponge did not, said breadroll, certainly, and block of wood definitely didn’t.
what is he doing?
he’s petting the sheep, said breadroll, but personally i think it is not a proper sheep at all.
we will get to the bottom of that, the man said.

bottom line is, said sponge, we’re still stuck here at this corner.
due to the motion ban, said breadroll.
and the ban on movements, said block of wood.
that as well, said sponge.
would you like another sheep, the man said, or at least a ewe stand to put it on?

shall we go, said sponge, motionless
let’s go, said breadroll. he does not move.
we can’t, said block of wood.
why not, said breadroll.
just because, said block of wood. besides, he said, others went before us and see where it got them. he pointed at the man.
motion ban, said sponge.
i see, said breadroll.
what, said sponge.
the man is closing up the sheep, said breadroll, fair enough i suppose. he has been here for quite a while.

maybe we should do something with eggs, said sponge.
eggs?
eggs are valueable assets, said block of wood, and rather useful. they are more than a sex symbol for starters.
really?
really.
i take it that you don’t need the sheep then, the man said.

lined up they sat on the kerbstone.
we should have done something with eggs, said block of wood, they are so symbolic.
i don’t know, said sponge, i am not too sure about the company’s stance in this respect. i shall find out for you once we get there.
are we going, said breadroll.
no, said the others.

i should take the sheep back, the man said.
the man had hidden behind various items, hence breadroll, sponge and block of wood did not notice him and — to honour the old days, to mark the occasion — threw in the occasional comment.
gosh, we didn’t notice you, said sponge.
googolly not at all, said block of wood.
there you are, said breadroll.
did you know where he had been, said sponge.
no, said breadroll, i wish to have a sheep tribunal.

a tribunal, said sponge.
indeed, said breadroll.
silence.
so, you’re back, said block of wood, didn’t expect you around for a while. not for a while anyway.
i find you guys amusing, said silence, what are you up yo?
not much, said breadroll, i asked for a tribunal.
those tribes are so 20th century, said silence, mimicing is it these days, as in me and youscum.
oh, said breadroll, tusculum.
also a very nice word, said silence.
they stared at a little piece of gravel right beside the sheep.

inflatable sheep, matetable sheep, suitable sheep, goutable sheep.
fluffy sheep, scruffy sheep.
sheep that open, sheep that close, sheep that hopen, sheep so gross.
shall we go, said breadroll.
we can’t, said sponge.
i see, said breadroll.
tea anyone, said block of wood.

we should not be so caught up with this sheepery, said sponge.
not at all, said block of wood. they watched breadroll talking to the sheep and seemingly having a great conversation. eventually breadroll offered the sheep a cigarette.

i hope it was a low fat fag, said sponge.
fat sheep are not a pleasant sight, said block of wood.
no they’re not. not at all they are, said sponge.
i agree, the man said, if you are interested in an agreement. shall i deflate it a bit?

did you know it was an inflatable sheep, said sponge.
no, said block of wood, did you?
no, said breadroll, me neither. but it smoked alright.

you should not have burnt the sheep, said block of wood.
you should not have burnt the man, said breadroll.
i know, said block of wood, that wasn’t nice at all.
he struggled quite a bit, said sponge.
he did, said block of wood, didn’t he.
he did, said sponge.
it is today we are meant to walk again, said breadroll, as in move about, or tomorrow.
tomorrow, said sponge, i heard something in that direction. then again, i could be terribly wrong, my ears are asymmetrical. the instructions in this respect are rather unclear.

and, said breadroll, you certainly heard something in that direction?
what do you mean, said sponge.
not the, said breadroll, other direction?
i think, said block of wood, he means because of your asymmetrical ears, because they are asymmetrical, it may have been some other direction, perhaps.
or a different direction, said breadroll.
i see, said sponge.
what about your eyes, said breadroll.

sponge eyes are brown-yellowish. using them correctly will not only enable sponge to spot a speck on the wall but will constitute an exciting new visionary experience in itself.
my eyes are fine said sponge, i am well able of having clear visions.
let get excited, said block of wood.
spontaneously, said breadroll.
they poured tea and added milk.
we haven’t had a meeting in a while, said sponge.

in actual fact, said sponge, i have heard they had plenty of meeting while we were away.
we are not there yet, said block of wood.
to be precise, said breadroll, we haven’t even started to walk in factual act.
i know, said sponge, the motion ban. we could go though.
we could, said block of wood.
will we, said breadroll.
we shall, said sponge, after the meeting.
not a man with a sheep again, no?
no.
tea?

what time is the meeting at?
soon. or maybe it’s postponed.
sponge and breadroll starred at something stuck to the pavement. block of wood poured tea, added milk. sponge scratched himself behind his left ear. breadroll pointed out that they, the ears as he clarified, were somehow asymmetrical. sponge and block of wood refreshed his memory.
that was subject to discussion a while ago, actually, they said.
block of wood had a sip. whether anyone wanted tea, he asked.
breadroll and sponge did not want tea and told him so. sponge starred at something else stuck to the pavement.
the amount of stuff stuck to the pavement, he said, unreal.
yea, mad isn’t it, said breadroll.

is there a room booked, said sponge, is there?
a room, said breadroll, who thought of that? a room. booked. o dear.
block of wood examined the pavement. still something stuck, he said, we should consider our options.
stuck, said breadroll, options. well, we could use our fingernails.
this is it, said block of wood, none of us has fingernails.
that should be discussed in further detail, said sponge, at least the discussion of the issue in further detail should be made part of an agenda of issues and items to be possibly discussed in the course of a decent meeting.
that is a very agreeable position indeed, said breadroll.
we should sit down, said block of wood, can you confirm that?
they sat down.

now, said sponge, we are almost there.
this summarises that morning’s events.

and when the spectator looked again, the three were gone.
djkghdriu, he said, dkjfhdfdfrosx, qwerty.
the three had made a move around the corner.
so we did, said sponge.
breadroll and block of wood had nothing to say. they kept quiet. very good, excellent. as this is what happened we should call it a day.

we haven’t gone far so far, said sponge.
yes, the others said. then they were silent for a while (until somebody broke the silence again – but that happened some other time. not far after the bridge they would not reach for ages).

why is it always me who does the talking, said sponge.
dunno, said breadroll.
do you, said block of wood.
what, said breadroll.
no, said block of wood.
what, said breadroll.
no, said block of wood, i meant do you really do all the talking. you know?
know what, said breadroll.
what i meant, said block of wood.
i see, said breadroll.
hours later this little episode caused joy and amusement amongst the three.

eggs fill and inflate, said sponge, but no one had mentioned eggs. to be sure, he said. it did not help.

exactly, said sponge. he looked around the corner. i think it is safe now, he said.
do you think so, said breadroll.
that’s what i just said, said sponge.
you think you’re funny, said block of wood.
no, said sponge, i think it is safe now.
that’s what he said, said breadroll.
we should go, said sponge.
we should, said breadroll.
they looked around the corner. no sign of a motion ban, they thought. somebody let off and somebody else spat; these people stuck out and were reviewed but everyone else seemed to be in a perfect chain of movements. they decided to discuss it in the next meeting they would come across and had tea.
we should really go then, said block of wood.

yesterday i made a wet sponge go into work rather than myself. i made the sponge sit on my chair and wait for me to sit on it.
much excitement for a workday. drawn up minutes.
now here we go, said breadroll.
finally, said block of wood.
eventually, said sponge.
a long day in the office had comes to an end. anyhows.

wet sponges suck, dry sponges bounce. yesterday today tomorrow. tomorrow it always better as it has no day in it that could be bad. you see what it mean.
tomorrow? that what everyone says.
and i agree, said sponge.

at least i should make the effort, don’t care what they use it for, said sponge.
to make more efforts, said breadroll.
block of wood turn into a moment and lingered for a while.

i can see we faint, said sponge, like all of us and all around us. wise words. great chords for exit.
there we go again, said breadroll, i was supposed to say that. things i was supposed to i may never say or never again. imagine.
you haven’t said that, said sponge. have you.
i don’t know, said breadroll. and who knows? it is too much of a muchness. we may as well end something somewhere somehow.

should we go around or in circles, enquiry from sponge.
in circles way cooler but around gets you around. so we go. let’s not cut corners and file a report on the matter.

o look, said breadroll, there is a cup.
and there, said block of wood, is tea.
isn’t that lovely, said sponge, we three, here, around the corner, at last.
brllo, said breadroll.
what about the i, said block of wood.
what about it, said breadroll.
it’s missing, said block of wood.
new policy, said sponge, we are required to be rather economic with terms that aim to express excitement.
i see, said block of wood, brll.
that was a tad bit too economic and a training session for block of wood was arranged.

is there a train soon, said block of wood.
soon, said bradroll.
brll, said block of wood.
you’re still doing it, said breadroll, i thought you had training.
postponed, said block of wood.
is there any tea, said sponge.
no tea was available at this stage. it was agreed to set up a policy with regard to the supply of tea and other warm beverages staff may ask for.
there should be some in the shop, said breadroll, if we find it that is.
the train arrived and breadroll, sponge and block of wood got on as anybody else did. the boarding of the the train was a very uneventful enterprise that does not require further description.
a man with a sheep boarded the train. breadroll, sponge and block of wood did not see the man with the sheep, hence did not comment. that is about all one can say about this morning.

did you hear about the sheep, said sponge.
the goat, said breadroll.
of hell, said block of wood.
indeed, said sponge.
no, said breadroll, not a word.
that’s a shame, said sponge, would have been an excellent opportunity to learn about the sheep. our readers, so i believe, are dying to know all about it
in future turnips, parnips and suedes should be their subject, as they subsequently decided (although this decision had been made without any scheduled meeting and therefore is subject to change without notice).

sponge took the cup to his mouth, closed his lips around the cup’s rim and halted all movement. he remained motionless for the better part of a while; that he was supposed to comment on something he said after said better part of a while and that he did not know what to say and it was rather difficult to speak with a cup at one’s mouth.
fair enough, said breadroll we’ll continue some other time.
that’s what we do, said block of wood, we’ll keep ourselves busy in the meantime.
we can always raise cups, said breadroll.
a fine observation.

well then, said sponge, it’s mon and we could squeeze a day in. or two which would bring us to wednes. if we then bridge the gap and make room for just two more days we easily take thurs and fri.

he completely forgot about us, said breadroll.
utterly, said block of wood.
when was that again, said breadroll.
yesterday, said block of wood.
whether he, block of wood, was sure about that breadroll then inquired and block of wood acknowledged. yes, he said.
well i suppose, said breadroll, i have almost forgotten about it.

hello. hello hello. hello.
sponge handed out two hellos and received two hellos back in return. breakeven. not bad, he said.
not too bad, said breadroll.
certainly not said sponge.
so, said breadroll, you’re back then.
was he away, said block of wood.
he wasn’t, said breadroll, that’s just something one does ask out of courtesy. it’s called making conversation. you learn this stuff in tree school, don’t you?
block of wood accepted the explanation, however, in a parallel world blokk (known as) slashed breadroll with a knife (the most suitable tool for the specific task) to apply lashings of butter and jam and later ask for further clarification.

that is was mean and wicked, breadroll had to remark, and highly uncouth to lash butter on him like that, not a lowfat product at all …
wasn’t it margarine, said sponge.
having been interupted breadroll looked startled (puzzled, flabbergasted, surprised, startled.). err, he said, i’m confused.
margarine, said sponge, is not supposed to be very good for you.
butter, said block of wood.
much better for you, said sponge.

now this is my solo, said block of wood, performance, i, so to speak, hijacked this episode and will not mention sponge. nor breadroll. nor any parallel universe. no mention, not a word, i swear to god. that’s that now.

nice morn, sun shone, over crest of mountain; longish crest, like a crescent; sun shone, entry sponge.
there has to be an end to this, sponge said and continued, bloody soli, yea that’s how you’re meant to call them, soli. not solos or the likes, know what i am talking about. soli. we have a culture going on here.
now would you, said breadroll — who meanwhile had sneaked in to stick on the kettle — and grew almost silent. that’s me, i think, for today, he said, now would you believe?
no, said sponge, but i know man untied hasn’t been quite up to it recently and that shall shed a light.
certainly will, said breadroll, tea?
yes please, said sponge.

completely forgot to comment on yesterday’s sunrise. said sponge.
too late now, said breadroll.
better now, said sponge.
than never, said block of wood.
that’s us, said sponge, back on target. i can feel the vibes moving synergetically, can you?
one acknowledged, the other summarised. obviously all would be wrapped up nicely in a report and send off for review and all that shit.

all that shit, said breadroll, would they ever flush.
in the meantime sponge and block of wood enjoyed a little cup.
we should pour some more tea, said block of wood rushing through the lyrical scene like a bull through a china shop.

we don’t want you to ruin this episode for us, said sponge.
nor any other, said breadroll, but this one in particular.
exactly, nor any other, said sponge.
but this one in particular, said breadroll, to make that clear.
highlight and earmark, said sponge. attach a memo. at least a post-it. and send an email, copy me in.
block of wood, however, the addressee of the repeatedly placed request not to ruin this episode — or indeed any other — did not get the message until much later; too late, as some argued.
other this and other episodes a morning breeze blew. nothing new. the description of sensations of nature puts a piece of prose in a more natural context.

the train now approaching platform one is the eight o’five service to crapwalk, calling at fuckoff, getlost, bruisington and shitstir.
i guess, said sponge, that’s not ours.
guess not, said breadroll.
anything else to discuss?
guess not, said block of wood.
guess we’re done for today, said sponge.
think so too, said breadroll.

1.) i feckin knew this moment would come, said sponge and was glad to have made a point. it makes all the difference, he said, all the diferrence and all the differennce as well. no matter how you spell it. it always will be the same. xsake.
nice ways of putting it, said sponge.
tea steamed. toast burned. the feast seemed to be prepared in the forefathers’ manner.
2. ) i think, said breadroll, — and that’s why i am on this chair indeed and not in this basket there on the table — that it was quite nifty of him to comment on his on remarks. truly astounding. astoun—ding. gosh how i do adore this word. astounding.
3.) i wasn’t finished, said sponge, not quite. or quire as you may type when you happen to be in a hurry; now go and shit yourself, you sissy.

lights on, gradually. chair, table, yucca tree.
as i said, said sponge. stopped. he hovered around a bit and then went off.
we are just as clueless as you are, perhaps, about what might have happened there.
pff = sound of sudden exhalation with lips closed as much as possible.

do we have to have this every day, said breadroll.
suppose we do, said sponge.
every day, said breadroll.
yep, said sponge.
a long pause.
every day, said sponge.
you’re not serious, said breadroll.

lights on, gradually. chair, table, yucca tree.
lights on, gradually. chair, table, yucca tree.
they never had it twice before, said breadroll.
no, said sponge, never.
that’s a novelty, said breadroll.
lights on, gradually. chair, table, yucca tree.
lights on, gradually. chair, table, yucca tree.
lights on, gradually. chair, table, yucca tree.
i think we better go, said breadroll. ever.

block of wood had successfully assured himself that he had not been left out on purpose. he sat — lights on, lights off — at the table. lights or lice, he said, who cares. the itch still would not go.
better times are underway, scratch wood.
entry sponge. i am going to talk to this block of wood now, he says, it is not that hard to talk to a block of wood. easier than many of you might think.
oh yes, said sponge and did not further specify the meaning of his words.
there is none, said block of wood.
what, said sponge.
meaning, said block of wood, in your words.
oh yes, said sponge, no, none, but i’m hoping to get away with it.
i see, said block of wood, tea anyone?
don’t even think of making this a chorus, said sponge.

is it still there, said sponge.
naturally, said breadroll, they don’t clean up.
and i have a meeting today, said sponge.
you’re not serious, said breadroll.
i am, said sponge, can’t wait.
so i believe, said breadroll, but the room is not available.
that was the brief summary of a short dialog on the fact that the three were locked out. essential maintenance, it was said but who would believe that for a minute.

we need a plot if this is to be going to work out – for us and for our visitors, said sponge.
do you have to have the first word all the time, said breadroll.
i don’t, said sponge.
you do, said breadroll.
god i hate that, said sponge, we need a plot.
go get sat on, said breadroll.

the need for a plot was apparent —— according to sponge that is.
a man entered the stage, dropped a newspaper, picked it up, left. no symbolic act, just mere clumsiness.
the man had react to the wrong keyword beside the wrong stage. he apologised and disappeared. that was it.
they subsequently said their bit and finished up.

this is a flat day, even the ceiling does not rise to any decent level and remains too low to accomodate the three as scheduled.
cloth, pitta and matchstick have been commissioned to perform instead under the low ceiling, however, don’t do much good.
a shame but who cares.

they felt slightly bad this morning, somewhat rotten, for not having prepared anything: breadroll, sponge and block of wood.
however, everybody felt the same way and eventually they ended up hugging each other.

a small drop of coffee had been left on the table. hardly recognisable its excistence had never been acknowledged but it was there — until sponge wiped it away (apparently utterly unaware of his doing).
feedback — asked for and provided:
we only ever have tea, said block of wood.
i was not aware of what i was doing, said sponge, you know what i’m saying.
you know yourself, said breadroll.

and now?
we have three stories but do we have a plot?
we should have a tribunal. or a inquiry. or both.
in which order?

they want us to be more lyrical, said sponge, more lyrical they said, would you believe.
gosh (flabbergasted).
good golly (gobsmacked).
now, said sponge, which is who? which expression of astonishment should be attributed to which character, as in character of the story, as opposed to character in an alphabetical context.

a breadcrust and a washed-out bottle of beer lingered on, the rest had gone home — a long time ago. this was the impression last night had given and this morning supported.
we should do something with poetry, said sponge, should set the leftovers in a more favourable light.
that would do good, said breadroll.
should we bother entertaining, said sponge.
let’s go, said breadroll.
otherwise, a few blocks down the road a man had mounted his bicycle and was about to take off when he remembered he had forgotten his coat. that would have been a bit of a chill factor, he said. for a second he regretted not having to have anyone to tell the funny incident when he almost took off without his coat ut remembered in time. he cycled on then.

those stories, said block of wood.
i know, said breadroll.
i think so too, said sponge.
we know, said breadroll and block of wood: unisono.
we should come up with something livelier, said sponge, something happy, cheerful.
yes, said block of wood, positive.
something poetic, said breadroll, like mary had a little pram or so.
this is it, said sponge, this is our idea. we should have a meeting and minutes and stuff.

this poetry thing could work, said sponge and whistled covering silence, it could work you know, mary had a little van, but what does she do with it, a van, there must be something.
this went on for a while; perhaps sponge did find a second verse but nobody listened and the lights were off.

mary had a little can, and in this can a tiny man…
too complex, too complicated, said sponge, usually people’s heads’ hurt when it’s too complex. or indeed too complicated.
we don’t want heads to hurt, said block of wood.
who wants that. hurting heads. head hurt all the time: on buses, in meetings, on men cycling doen the road, on women, too, although they tend to exaggerate.
we manage to do without, said breadroll, that’s just us, mind you.
he repeatedthe line until block of wood took over (with a new line).
another day mastered.
too complex, said sponge.

i hardly slept a wink last night, said sponge, waking up every blink and odd split second.
that’s the way it goes, i suppose, said breadroll.
defonightly, said block of wood.
did we agree on that kind of lingo, said sponge, and what’s this said business anyway, it’s pretty obvious that we’re saying something, isn’t it, as people can hear us. very well, i believe.
they can’t, said breadroll, it all printed. if lines could natter…
— pause —.
you got a point there, said sponge. any way: mary had a little man. can i pick your brains on that?

we made good progress, said breadroll, if i remember correctly.
excellent progress, said block of wood.
but how do we proceed, said sponge. is there a plan?
a memo, said breadroll.
o, said block of wood, only a memo, is it?
yes, said sponge, budget is tight.
that’s a shame, said breadroll.
i know, said sponge, but what can you do? my heads are tied in this respect.
breadroll suggested to go and find somebody with an even tighter budget and make fun at his (or her) expense to make things worse fro him (or her), however, such person was nowhere to be seen.
tight pants, would they do? no, they would not.

my name is herr brekst and i came to speak to you, said herr brekst and exhaled noisily. he said he was fine when breadroll put the question to him. i’m fine, perfectly fine, he said (the words still resounding in our ears, although he had a thin voice, somewhat shifty).
needless enterprise, said sponge, who had been delegated for interprose, herr brekst will have to speak to the receptionist at once.
it is somehow of somewhat delicate nature, my business, not my general compositure, to say this much, said herr brekst before the story ended.

so: you are herr brekst, plainly that and without <em></em> tags whatsoever, said sponge.
herr brekst: that is precisely correct.
are you, said breadroll — understandibly nervous and excited to see a possible celebrity — the herr brekst.
again, herr brekst replied, without <em></em> tags that is if you’d PLEASE; and that’s me hating to use caps.
if only we were in a position to give a toss.

herr brekst: so, well, if you ask me to: lose weight guardian! for the scrotum convention. male enlargement fractures perhaps gauzed arragon, but men don’t wear rings anyways. you’ve tried all the resteds, now try the bestest? recumbent nightgown floating away in a sea of amber dyed ale.
the (bouncer, blackcoat, redneck, underprivileged) or igi.anal’ (someother == variablethatresultsin == other), male enlargement desktop fickler dexterity brawler.
all that while the doorknob flooded his ears, the usual.
herr brekst ceased. was quiet. certain sadness around the man.

is he awake now, said breadroll.
i don’t think, said sponge, you can start an episode with an openening line quite similiar to the one used previously.
not?
no. that’s lazy.
however, it turned out to be a beautiful day after all.

so, yesterday morning i was on the subway, said herr brekst, and i met this guy …
where, said sponge.
on the subway, said herr brekst.
good, said sponge, we thought you were asleep. well, that’s that solved. wait until i tell the others. i should assume they will be at least semi-excited. why don’t we look forward to that?

herr brekst sat on breadroll, and block of wood had taken the last slice of toast, to define this morning.
— a long pause —.
herr brekst to sponge: good morning, nice morning.
block of wood to sponge: good morning, nice morning.
herr brekst (initially wanting to ask breadroll a question) and block of wood (in no position to answer questions) enjoyed their breakfast, and that is all that counts and will be counted to be taken into account.

i had come to ask a question, said herr brekst, and then maybe leave again, as one does, no strings attached, nor frills, a straight forward question — alas, that does not seem to happen.
anyway, that’s it for today, a good day for you all and join us tomorrow when you’ll hear sponge say:
you’ve woken up. congratulate yourself.

you’ve made it, said sponge, congratulate yourself.
made what, said breadroll.
you’ve woken up, said sponge.
i suppose i have, said breadroll, and i exfoliated.
what did you do that for, said sponge.
just did, said breadroll.
just like that, said herr brekst, amazing. congratulations.
herr brekst sat on block of wood. otherwise everything was everyday.

herr brekst sat on a chair, and so did sponge; breadroll and block of wood were nowhere to be seen. neutral location. deserted.
herr brekst did not say a word (including: morpheme, phoneme), nor did sponge; breadroll and block of wood were nowhere to be heard.  silence. no coughing. void of clocks.
the previous sentences are quite similiar in structure. we would continue to defy diversity if it was not for this episode to be over.

and, said sponge, what now?
you don’t use that question thingy very often, said breadroll.
that was correct but beside the point. herr brekst was not overly optimistic about finding a possibility to ask his question, not today to say the least. nevertheless, the tea was wet and the toast was dry, and it turn out to be rather pleasant.
there should be a justification for the title as good manners command, alas, it would be hard to get some rain in, now that we said the day turned out to be “rather pleasant” (=it, ie. the day). rain was promised for tomorrow. unfortunately tomorrow the weather was not supposed to be mentioned. what to do? it is no surprise that people turn to drink.

semaphore, said herr brekst, could be an option. as so many things can. shall i talk about flowers? maybe?
now he’s using it, said breadroll.
amazing sight, said block of wood, the things he does with it.
guys, said sponge, i hate to say this but we got to get moving on the project.
clear words, not open for interpretation, nothing to add (herr brekst). stuff it (breadroll) and move (block of wood).

and herr brekst did move, here and there, to and fro, round and square.
kitchen, empty, decoration, stage.
slumber, they are absent. death would overtake.
you. the power of your gifts would have startled the most advanced electricians (operators)
of the world.
thousandfold, fourfold: combination of laughter.
puss willow’s to be.
this episode will stir things up and rattle a few cages.

we have to stop missing the title so grossly, said breadroll.
true, said sponge, there is an issue, would you do a little writeup on it?
pff, said breadroll.
i think we got it quite well there, said block of wood, back then.
does he have to read a poem every now and then, said breadroll.

i will be around to stir up the water, rattle a few cages, and ruffle a few feathers, i told you, said sponge.
feathers, said breadroll.
ruffle the feathers, said block of wood, i knew we’d forget something.
he did not forget it, said breadroll.
no, said block of wood, he didn’t.

ruffle, said breadroll, a few feathers. an intriguing word indeed.
he did not seem to be serious about that — at least not as serious as the man who went into the shop and asked for catering pan (thick doughy slices).
now there’s a man of determination, said sponge.
alas, people tend to find approving and encouraging comments less interesting. the man went on with his business (sandwichery) and so did the sales assistant (costumer care) and the others (breadroll, sponge and block of wood).

feathers, said breadroll, feathers, feathers.
fatherse, said block of wood, as some people say.
they are snobs, said breadroll. feethars maybe.

obviously we need the cage, said sponge, how are supposed to rattle it if it isn’t there.
didn’t you read the memo, said breadroll.
no, said sponge.

chitty chitty, said sponge, are we all in jolly mood and all?
quite, said breadroll, not overly, mind you.
that would be the standard answer, said sponge. we should stop here for now and review.

we should get a car, said sponge.
that would add to the story, said block of wood, indeed.
we also would look less ridiculous, said breadroll.

a car, said sponge, o yes, that would be an improvement. a car. the english say kaa.
what about the motion ban, said breadroll, are we sure it’s over? did we get an external opinion? do we know what we’re dealing with?
you used it three times in a row, said block of wood.
did i, said breadroll.
you did, block of wood.
amazing, said breadroll.

if i had a car, said sponge, if only, knockknock.
and a hammer, said breadroll.
what’s the hammer for, said block of wood.
one always has a hammer, said breadroll, should have one, ought to, at least and particularily when one owns a car.
we take the statement and put it into consideration.

o jeeze, said sponge, five minutes, that’s all we’ve got.
five, said breadroll, minutes. that’s all?
you did it again, said block of wood.
what, said breadroll.
the ?, said block of wood.
o, said breadroll, my brain hurts, and we’ve waisted another episode.
we should tell people the time, said block of wood.
we’ve started didn’t we, said sponge, time’s up.
a number of cycles populate the street — bi tri and quattro — which was the most reportable event so far.

breadroll will sing a song but nobody will listen.
my brain hurts a-lot, said breadroll, but as previously indicated: nobody listened. nobody. listen. not even herr brekst.
sad. alas, a fact.

here we go, said breadroll:
soso sono sing a song a sing sang
resounding resonging resinging resigning
not just yet (soso sono sing a song a sing sang)
my brai me brain hurts a lot
alotta brayn hurts alotta brian
bri bri bri bran
hurtz hutz and others
now we should find a nation, said breadroll, in need of an anthem. a puppet state or a banana republic. they should be interested enough. what do you think?
the other had gone (before the brayn).

herr brekst: now. it’s up to me again. the others are still a-zzzzzzz. you know. now. what will i do? what do you think?

not his best, said sponge.
not at all.
herr brekst: breadroll?
breadroll: herr brekst?
silence. one way or another to end a story.

herr brekst said: new beginnings have always been my favourite start. let’s see what is in for us today.
did you, said breadroll, see the red socks of the cardinals?
no, said block of wood, and you?
neither, said breadroll, but they do wear them during papal funerals and virginal funferalls.
really, said sponge, is that a fact?
fact and all, a done thing and dusted, said herr brekst, it is great fun to combine things with and. gives them the sense of togetherness and all; and puts them in a context after all.
in the other town a man entered a coffeeshop and ordered tea; but you know yourself: there’s always one: one other man, one other coffee, one other inflatable sheep.

we wanted to start the classical way, the standard opening lines:
that’s interesting, said breadroll.
then we’d move slowly towards the climax:
they are supposed to do that, said sponge, didn’t you get the memo. it was circulated for quite some time.
really, said breadroll.
finally we wanted to end and round the story with a witty but familiar line:
tea anyone, said block of wood, or coffee?
but, alas, we won’t. not today.

herr brekst: after five minutes she was still there, in her own largeness, nd i was getting worried as she started to sweat and to breathe heavily …
what herr brekst had experienced is know as “persistent guest syndrom” or short perge, which stands for “persistently enduring ridiculous guest experience (perge)”. one of its chief characteristics is the onset of sweat and similiar transpirational results which are likely to cause panic on the other part. the victim becomes gradually aware of the immobility of the obese visitor and begins to envisage its life as … (voice fading and off).

look at this nutshell, herr brekst said, it’s all hollow. that’s what people mean when they say …
we know, said breadroll.
wise words, said sponge, but they will go unheard.

we had this problem before, with being heard and stuff, didn’t we, said breadroll.
we did, said sponge.
they stalled and did not do anything for the day.

the three protagonists, one after the other.
that was a funny story indeed. we laughed our head off, so we did. gosh all these things to do.
well done. you must be proud.
may you all join me please in welcoming this great achievement.

the decision is, we’ll send a memo around, full of letters font size 12pt, for the visually impaired, and will cater for all other imparities we’ll identify, but will not swear or use improper words such as fuck, suck or cunt, not even in variations such as fcuk, sukk or cnnt.
says sponge and leaves again.

yesterday. email, marked urgent and confidential.
fuck sake.
what?
mailbox is full. got to ring the helpdesk.
so, no news for you then.
no.

(that last episode did not mention the presence of block of wood; he had been sat on).
always one, the man said, there’s always one. shook his head in disbelief and went away.

another man came along: same reaction (shook head in disbelief and went).
true creativity is obviously only possible in totalitarian political systems where facial expressions can be ordered and body language prescribed. snip, have tea.

man 1 and man 2 thought long and hard what to do.
man 1 went into politics, man 2 did not. everyone contributed to the first man’s wellbeing, and he was happy. man 2 was unemployed, felt useless and that he was.
i may as well, he said, be a sponge, a breadroll or a block of wood, wouldn’t be much of a muchness.

on the one hand they did not feel like getting up; on the other they had no intention.
they let a few men do all the work:
greet the neighbours.
water the plants.
go to the pub (have a few jars).
sit around in places, just sit there, drink something.
that’ll do us, said sponge.

that was a lousy start, herr brekst said, in the week; you would not have such a start in, say, a novel. a novel, well, that’s something else, a novel is.
he used a big knife to spread butter on toast. union, he said, of spread and base.
sponge and breadroll said nothing. nor did block of wood.
at least we agree, herr brekst said, don’t we?
and morning and evening marked a new day and now night.

wollo wollo wallo, said breadroll, am i right or not?
seems so, said sponge, doesn’t it?
are there three white men walking down the street, said block of wood, aren’t there?
i think, said sponge, so. were they scheduled?
shouldn’t we make sure?
shall we?
let’s go.
anything else? no? sure?
sure.

tokktokk, said sponge, tikk; and breadroll: wallawalla; block of wood remained silent; herr brekst sent his apologies and his love, the lot is set to arrive shortly. this should be properly discussed, said sponge, prrrroperlily, so to speak, as they say, with a schedule attached to it and the works.
agreed, said breadroll, but the time factor should not be neglected.
it has been negotiated, said sponge.
good, said breadroll, we are set to finish before the off-licences open.

who said that?
what, said breadroll.
the bit with the nothing in it, nothing very uplifting.
dunno, said block of wood.
we agreed to be uplifting. what happened to the poetry project?
questions.

uplifting. downsizing. uplifting. downsizing. uplifting. downsizing. uplifting. downsizing. uplifting. downsizing. uplifting. downsizing. uplifting. downsizing. uplifting. downsizing. uplifting. downsizing. uplifting. downsizing. uplifting. downsizing. uplifting. downsizing. uplifting. downsizing. uplifting. downsizing. uplifting. downsizing… i could do this for hours, really, said sponge. sniggered.

po et ry.
pooo entries.
pope’s entry.
pop try.
pe.p.
pottry.
that’s quite enough, herr brekst, said sponge, quite sufficient as well.
do you think so, said herr brekst.
positive, said sponge, everyone’s left; except me. and you.
herr brekst took a cup. do you want tea, he said. sponge did not want tea. i could make coffee. however, sponge did not want coffee either.
the morning had a hard time taking off.

sponge, breadroll and block of wood sat on chairs. other things happened, too. too much to tell.
same story, different day.

they say, we should break out of our our box as we are confined to the little episodes, as little or large as they are allocated, they say, herr brekst said, even though i am not too sure if large is the right word in this context. it may as well be lorge; or indeed bick.
block of wood was a grand chair or stool, as you like, but herr brekst, having said his line, still looked slightly forlorn.

titicaca they said, herr brekst said, lake titcaca. that’s where i should go they said. lake titcaca, to go fishing for several fish, cheetah trout, tiger carp, hideous herring and sodding salmon, (though salt salmons they said they were). well, i got the hint. i’m off.
he stays, has tea and scones.

i’d like to expand myself, said breadroll, too. that should not be an issue.
expand, expand, sang the voice on the radio, expand, expand.
there were talks of people leaving the story, some the entire storyline, but none of them was confirmed.

the little episode for today was lost in the post. breadroll searched high and low, sponge narrow and wide: no success.
block of wood meanwhile tried variants of his name:

blokkk oo w’dd
blk off wuud
blogg’o'woot
blog of would
blockock offally wot wha

if there are news with regard to the search we shall keep you informed.

they said, said sponge, the lost episode was a particularily good one.
always the case, said breadroll.
typical, said block of wood.
even though they generally enjoyed these dialogues they also never complained about them coming to an end.

if we enjoy them we should complain, said breadroll.
we should, said sponge, but we can’t. it is all about policies and there is none for complaints. at least not to-date.
no policy, said block of wood, are you sure?
sure, said sponge.
they had tea.
the dialogue had come to an end.

so, the first white man said, it is us.
today, the second white man said.
only today, the third white man said, it is that we do the episode for sponge and crowd.
that’s that now, the first white man said, the episode. over.

do you realise, the first white man said, we are here again.
indeed, the second white man said, how come?
how long to go until the end of the episode, the third white man said.
not long but that’s beside the point. we wanted to spend time with our corner sheep. quality time for quality men. the first white man had tea. we even have tea, he said, breadrolls would be fine, too.

lights on, gradually. chairs, table, yucca tree, white men.
sponge, breadroll and block of wood seated on the chairs, hands tied to the back, gagged.
first white man: now.
second white man: you do it.
third white man: you. it’s your show.
first white man: do what?
second white man: the talking. it’s your show.
third white man: exactly.
first white man: it’s their show.
second white man: i forgot. we’re out.
third white man: we should ungag them then.
first white man: that would help.

sponge, breadroll and block of wood seated on the chairs, hands tied to the back, ungagged.
aren’t we, said sponge.
supposed to, said breadroll.
look for, said block of wood, and then a brief pause.
the lost episode, i wonder, said sponge.

they found bits of the lost episode, said sponge.
who lost it anyway, said breadroll.
some poor sod, said sponge. herr brekst has written a poem to mark the occasion.
herr brekst, please.

sod
mod
cod
three words with different meanings but
words in any case
but
butt
bud
andso onanon
eyeye shell finfish
on a leather stage

nice, said breadroll, this one.
(alternate ending for this episode: the three white men return as the second white has forgotten something. a brief discussion starts and ends. the three white men leave as nothing has been found.)

can’t do much, not much to do.
go down to the river. noy much to do. not much on: nothing. it’s a bank holiday.
they said this in an email, said sponge, i got recently. things people say, i don’t believe a word for a minute.
that’s it, don’t go down to the river, the banks are off.

we shall practice, as we were advised, said sponge, until our backsides come off.
ouh, said breadroll, that happened to me once. i felt quite unbalanced.
the same time:
herr brekst said, i came to speak to somebody.
two utterly unrelated events, only the form they were reported suggests a connection. only suggests.
three events, to be exact. one didn’t happen.
actually, none of this happened, all imagined. the title is incorrect.

did he say somebofy, said breadroll.
i think so, said sponge, but that’s beside the point. we have an episode to present.
no story? i thought it is a story, said breadroll, a chapter or a pisode.
it is an episode, said sponge, a smaller pisode, so to speak. let’s think about it.
let’s have a look, said breadroll.
even that, said sponge.
fine, said breadroll.
exactly, said sponge, how can we end this dialogue.
don’t know, said breadroll, do you?
no, said sponge, it must be a trick.

it is encrypted, said sponge.
what? (wot, watt?)
the episode, for copy and other right reasons.
o dear.

so, said breadroll, what are we going to do now?
well, said sponge. i suppose, he said.
that’ll be a while, said breadroll.
i think so, said block of wood.
they had tea and scones.

i would not want to be a scone. would you want to be a scone?
who wants to be a scone?
nobody i know, said breadroll.

i suppose, said sponge, we’ll have to see …
and that is about it for today.

i suppose we’ll either find a way to decrypt it or we’ll leave it altogether, said sponge.
that’s a plan, said breadroll.
am i on for the punchline, said block of wood.
there is none, said breadroll, today. not even a witty last sentence.

now, said breadroll.
we’ve got to act, said sponge.
now, said block of wood.
they’ve caught us cold, said sponge.
with our pants down, said breadroll.
literally, herr brekst said.

and today, said sponge.
today, said breadroll.
today is, said sponge and exhaled noisily.
is what, said block of wood.
a particularily tedious day, said sponge, repetitious.
is it the one, said breadroll.
it is, said block of wood. guessing.
the day that occurs every week, said sponge.

tandaradei tsts daa iii, said breadroll without any motivation. he also said it without intention. i did not mean to do it, he would later say when questioned and challenged, but for the moment he remained silent.
and action, voice-over said. nobody moved.
action, voice-over again.
we’ll never get anywhere, said sponge, if we carry on like this. even if we don’t: it is debatable.

there is an option, said breadroll, the episode being somewhere within creyer faltics or the likes or works.
there is an option, said breadroll, to supersize the breakfast.
really, said breadroll, why don’t we follow up on that?

did we follow, said sponge.
to the corner, said breadroll, then we lost track.
track, said block of block spontaneously.
we ought to follow up and down, said sponge.
everybody knew that. the corner shop had brought eggs, rolls and butter. end of story.

we were supposed to do it today, said sponge, meant to do it actually; but no, we can’t, not today.
just like that, said breadroll, hugged sponge and put on a grin.
highly uncouth. they meandered, cunningly. watch your steps, can’t you. they didn’t wait for an answer.

nah neither today we can’t errr, couldn’t, said sponge, if we wanted to. honestly, couldn’t if you’d paid us.
it was a fine morning, the sun hidden behind clouds, hence not too bright, no birds screaming either, a nice and pale grey morning; all set for an episode.
impossible, said breadroll, could not bring myself to do it. neither could block of wood; isn’t that right?
correct, said block of wood.

to produce an episode, even an unfunny one, said sponge, phew, tokktokk, tough with double-ff.
impossible today let’s face it, said breadroll, right?
right; so much for that, said sponge.
we should send brekst, said breadroll.
to do what, said block of wood.
to find out, said sponge.
we surely should definitely send brekst, said breadroll, even if he returns with a poem.
that wouldn’t be good, said block of wood.
somebody has to find out, said breadroll.
agreed, said sponge to add a sense of seriousness and commitment to the ending.

block of wood has finished a little song (akk noo walla k thhr ff). silence. into the silence bursts breadroll. this squarepants character, he says, is he anyhow familiar or related?
don’t know him, sponge says hastily and starts picking crumbs off the slice.
that’s all.

shouldn’t he be back, said breadroll.
maybe they are at his, said sponge so he’d be a while.
you shouldn’t even think that, said block of wood, it’s so negative.
true, said sponge, we start again.
shouldn’t he be back soon, said breadroll.
(can he just change the opening line, said block of wood.
i think so, said sponge, he’s a senior at this stage.)
shortly, said sponge.
how soon is that, said breadroll.
soon, said sponge.

was it a good report, said sponge, comments.
tit for tat, said breadroll.
agreed, said block of wood.
it was a long morning; and they struggled to keep busy.

it is a lump of an episode today, wet and tough, drags on for eons and a bit.
i don’t know, said sponge; breadroll said nothing and block of wood was absent.

sponge had a glass of lager in front of him; a shock it was, he said, when this big episode was found in the drawer.
the lost episode?
no, not the lost one, just some greaseballs mind child. they should not accept submissions of people out there. consumers are evil.
we’ll end our interview soon.
now.

sponge also had a few with the next door neighbour, a renown suburbian drinker and social benefit dogder; the neighbour was also infamous for his stories that had no beginning, plot or proper ending — like this episode for instance.

the day kick-started; speedy, sunny, utterly dynamic and with the power to innovate: the early bird teaches the worm.
a sunny morning. breadroll, sponge and block of wood had to think what to say to mark the occasion but could not come up with anything. aggregate, innovate, promulgate, said the voice on the radio in order to further the sales of a certain product.

sponge, breadroll and block of wood wanted to go on holidays but that’s a different story.
if you think the story so far — with a view to its unspectacular ending — is not funny we can assure you that it was neither intended nor designed to be funny.
different story altogether.

whatever happened to the fat lady, breadroll said eventually.
no idea, said sponge, still there perhaps.
who did she want to talk to anyway, said breadroll.
have no idea, said sponge, surely we have a policy for that.
why don’t we just ask her?
very unprofessional. what if you ask and it wasn’t you she’s looking for? you talked to her without her wanting to talk to you.
that would not be good.
not good no.
a matter of policy.
exactly.
that’s done.

sun up, sky on; a perfect setting for a new day.
i am ready as far as i am concerned, said block of wood, to meet a fat lady.
woman, said breadroll.
woman, said block of wood.

saggapuss is a nice name, said breadroll and sniggered.
between sagga and saba’a is a mile of a difference, said sponge.
that’s true, said breadroll, as well as between sagga and sock.

what about meggabus, said block of wood, but the naming party had been postponed — scheduled to continue in due course — and block of wood was alone with the fat woman.

i heard you were still waiting outside.
yes i am, the fat woman said, i just couldn’t be arsed.
that’s amazing, said block of wood, i feel the same way every now and then.

arse, herr brekst said while block of wood — unaware of herrn brekst’s presence — was searching for a way to keep the conversation going, in any case, or should i say, anyway better than arsenic. that’s is a trivial insight. the little lad from next door said that. he is stupid but in his age it’s called cute. (long protracted silence). anyway. better than some things.
(repeat last line ad lib).

it’s hot in here, the fat woman said.
i see, said block of wood.
in was indeed hot in the room with the yucca tree: while block of wood do not sweat fat women do religiously, as do fat men. other do to, however, they are not worth mentioning for the moment.
would you collect sweat in cavities and clefts, said block of wood.
i would love to, the fat woman said, but senior management wants me to have visible drops on forehead and upper lip. the scripts for this and other episodes are equally certain on the subject.
you should have stopped after upper lip, that would have been a punch line and a clear statement, something nice and round to finish the episode. we have to do with the usual now.
they had tea.

you should not, said block of wood, accept clear instructions. the clearer they are the lesser they are tought through. take my word for it. no. don’t. don’t take my word. try for yourself. it is only an advice. i’m only advising, not suggesting anything. it’s only a job for me.

room. yucca tree. the usual. fat woman in the corner, sitting, covered with a bed sheet.
we should hang out for a while, said sponge, have a break, get away from it all. (points at woman) do we know who she came to talk to?
no, said block of wood, but i got rather friendly with her.
you talk to her then, said sponge, shall we uncover her?
no, said block of wood, we shan’t.
that’s a swell word to use, said sponge, shan’t.
isn’t it just, said block of wood, and so is swell. a swell word.
there we go, said sponge, and swell isn’t a shan’t word.

today, said block of wood, we could do something special inmidst the regularities.
yes, said sponge, we could.
why don’t we, said breadroll.
a discussion followed, which was rather very unspectacular.

the man who had had a hat went swimming in the sea one day. on his way to the beach he found a coin. after his swim he went to town and bought a new hat but not with the coin he had found as this would not have been enough.
that seems exciting enough, herr brekst said, we should have a jar or two to mark to occasion, maybe three.
done, said sponge.

spo. nge. ch-ch-ch-ch.
bre. adroll. ads no ads. spam bhamwham. roll roll roll.
blo, blo, blo blo. ck o. f. woo. d of wwo. ed. bow.
who c. ould. s. ould:
resist. t. t. t. t. br. ekst. kst. st. t.

[drinking game; halt whenever you come to a fullstop and have a sip. refill glass at colon.]

if there is one thing i love to do than it’ll be to reek like a rookie. there is nothing like it. the reasoning about reeking and rank and retirement makes the odour turn sour, the very substance that on the rookie’s mildly bulging body loiters and lingers as the bad news -for some- that it is, that substance or subs as insiders or ins as they call themselves usually call it that later will turn out to be the undercoat of your presence, that smell of butter gone sour and vapourising beer.
sponge was in a position to achieve this state and in that state he triumphantly glazed over his collegues. what a waste of words as none and not one were listening. he will have to repeat this shit.

the mirror was in shadow. she rubbed her handglass briskly on her woollen bric-a-brac container.
beautiful lines these are, herr brekst said, just like the ones i quoted before we started out.
a long pause broke out and savaged the mood.
i don’t seem to develop as a character at all, herr brekst said and sighed. it was this very deeply felt sigh that the sound engineer later used in a film on the assasination of jf kennedy.

the sun shone.
the receptionist answered the phone when the salesman stepped to her counter.
hiya, she said.
hiya, he said.
now these are clean american youngsters, herr brekst said, actively fighting terrorism by displaying a proper exterior appearance and agree on good terms and in a largely polite fashion.
don’t mind them, said sponge, they’ll join us when they’re older.
we rush then i suppose, herr brekst said and felt witty.
[the breakfast tv lumpenproletariat crowd stays as they have no place to go.]

and the thing with the thing is, herr brekst said to start where sponge had ended, the thing is a rotten one. here we are quoting lines, one after the other to make them all known, and people come up with new ones as we speak.
terrible, said sponge.
awful, said block of wood.
a shame, said breadroll, really a disgrace.
head fly around; one looks at breadroll.

you know, said sponge, one single word of disgust would have been quite sufficient. we’re talking too much anyway. too much; you see, i should not have said this. should not have spoken these words, not unauthorised.
change subject: the weather here is just amazing. wednesday the 3rd august 2005 had a reasonable amount of sunny spells, at least in dublin.

staring at a white screen, said breadroll, is not funny.
blank screen, said sponge, antracite.
no, said breadroll, white. white screen, sort of greyish or pale magnolia.
you should always switch it off ,said block of wood, before you start staring at it. that’s much healthier.
i heard that too, said sponge but the conversation was over.

magnolia, said sponge, who would have thought? no white screen has ever been magnolia. that’s a different setup altogether.
somewhere else maybe, said breadroll.
where, said sponge and looked over.
nowhere, said breadroll.
good, said sponge, that doesn’t make sense. i wasn’t finished actually. — magnolia, as i tried to point out earlier on this morning is an amazing variant of white maybe but too much an innovation to be a mere shade of white to be honest; and to stick to the title and the underlying title-text-match policy you should replace appearances of magnolia with something from the grey area.
sponge tried to look jolly and thus marked the end of the episode.

the last few episodes, said sponge, were of an appaling quality. not at all “extremely spohisticated” as the introduction reads.
doesn’t it read “sophisticated excellence”?
no?
no.
really not?
not at all.
that’s not what you said before; nonetheless we’re finished.

i did not forget how you burst into me the other day said silence and nothing thereafter.
after a long while sponge told breadroll that he, sponge always knew that this would happen after all it was not proper order that he, breadroll, always bursts into silence with no warning. block of wood was left out of it.
shush, said silence and she had a point.

silence had the episode and its inhabitants in her iron grip.
pheeeew eew eeeee ewwww pheeeeeeeew toktok knok nokk pheeeeeeeeoooow ooooow tokrok tokk togg
(all they could manage …).
calls to the international community had been fruitless; nobody seemed to be at home or otherwise contactable, things would probably less desparate if creationism or islam or scientology had taken hold of this entertainment crew and their regular show. all by smart design.

herr brekst broke the silence by saying: that’s the day that’s in it tandaradei.
silence howled, which was unusual, and disappeared, which was expected.
now, said sponge, i think we should be grateful and moving on the agenda.
the plan was accepted. tihio tukk, said breadroll, we can voice ourselves again. what a delightful day is dawning out there and what a nice table is set for us. shall we proceed?
proceeeeed? block of wood thought for a while and agreed. yes proceeeed.
they proceeded with their business and poured tea.

somehow — as herr brekst revealed — it had not been as as hard as one might believe. the trick is, herr brekst said, to let a sound be followed by another, appropriate sound that accompanies and complements the previous word and is itself followed, accompanied and complemented by another sound; and so on.
amazing, said sponge, innovative, exciting.
what is there for us to say, said breadroll and block of wood almost unisono.

we should, said sponge, have one day at least to be serious. one day a week.
one day a week at least, said breadroll, we should be consistent.
a great idea, said block of wood.
what, said breadroll.
what do you mean, said block of wood.
great idea, said breadroll, what is.
the serious day, said block of wood.
we should make a plan, said sponge.
flapp: the clock changed. breadroll and block of wood waited for, full of expectations, for an explanation in more detail, some project plan of sorts; alas, the story is over. flapp.

what happened to the fat lady, said sponge, i wonder.
fat woman, said breadroll.
yes, what happened.
no idea, said breadroll and scratched his crust, block of wood was dealing with her.
i see, said sponge, we lost track of her, didn’t we?
she promised to ring, said block of wood, or email.
cc me in, said sponge, i love to be kept in the loop.
that was a fairly civil conversation, said breadroll.
it was, wasn’t it, said sponge.

how could you loose her anyway, said sponge, that seems quite odd.
tiny head, said block of wood.
of course, said sponge, i forgot.

something, said breadroll, something. something in her reminded me of something, made me think not only of but ooof her and was not her well-stuffed purse for she was naked.
naked, said sponge, as in stark?
as in buck. yes.

stark or stork, said sponge, does it really matter? with the middleweight growing stronger? in a reely sense perhaps; marginally.
it is never so hard once you got over it, said block of wood. i am more concerned, he said, about a breadroll taking my credits. i know the head was tiny and i live to testify.
most fat women have tiny heads, said sponge.

point is, said sponge, you lost her.
where is breadroll by the way, said block of wood, he hasn’t been around for a while.
you actually got a point there but that is not the problem, said sponge. where is he anyway?

i would not worry about breadroll if i was you, said sponge, it would be atypical.
you think so, said block of wood, because if you wrong i could do with some slaughter; some horrorshow if that’s more your style, just to be blokk again, and if i had sung this with a guitar to cool my armpit i would gone down as a folkstar.
fine, said sponge, we consider the splatter then.

sponge, holding a cutlet and some sausages in one hand, a mixer in the other, says: if we are serious about the splatter we should start somewhere. it won’t go anywhere if we are not serious about it and go the extra mile. that’s what i say.
he waits. no more action.

still holding a cutlet and some sausages in one hand and a mixer in the other plus some added cocktail sauce, sponge says: splatter without blood is nothing at all fer sake; and pours a pint of stage blood on the stage. get this: stage blood on stage, as if it was made for it. mad action all together.

yucca tree. morn, two chairs and jar. what the jars were for, block of wood inquired, al;as, the responsible person, the-1-2-tell, was having breakfast, so no avail of a conclusive answer until her brekst arrived, surprinsingly for all of us.
they are for later, he said.

computer viruses are like obnoxious party guests, the support guy said and frowned, they show up to your pc attitude unannounced, wreck the joint, and then move the party to our friends, colleagues and important clients’ systems.
bearing this in mind i shall read the incoming mail and spot the innovation in it, said sponge. sort of thing you say. complete feedback form.

it is that time again, herr brekst said, that we should use to down a few.
an outrage the money they charge these days, said breadroll, makes you sick.
nonetheless, said sponge, i think we should, go i think. just a few.

this and this and this, said sponge, it all adds up to this; and this is all there is to it. no more. trust me.
the jars on the table were set to be cleared; the table, however, looked settled and had no intention to leave. the chairs and stools did not move.
they stayed.

Is Your p!en5Qis this small?
We are yo;ur lêist joyzs, because we cure men like you!
if that is not uplifting, said sponge, then what is?

sponge says: whatever, should i care. sausage digested, no need for details.
block of wood had spent the last few episodes rattling gold chains and howlings yeas occationally; wearing a rucksack as a hunch.

cutlet splatter is so 20th century, said breadroll, but traditional sausages are a classic, in some countries anyway.
so. you’re back, said sponge.
yes i am, said breadroll, you did not get any further i assume.
no, said sponge, we did not. a few uplifting moments though.
at least something, said breadroll, i suppose.

we have to lose someone, said breadroll, needs must you see.
lose, said sponge and drew a question mark in the air to mark his remark’s inquisitive nature. as in lose the hat?
as in, said breadroll or the grin. then again, they tend to say, wipe the grin off a bodypart, englishmen do.
i could stab you and butter you, maybe there is jam in the fridge, said block of wood, ram the knife and be blokk once again, just like the ool days.
you mean traditional, said sponge, but that’s cancelled; cultural references have to be neutral and ambigious.
and we’re all on a diet, said breadroll, remember?

lights on, rather apruptly. chair, table, yucca tree. block of wood with cushion on top.
perfect, said breadroll, as far as i am concerned. without the cushion block of wood appears as a seat and we’re set and seated.
he has to feel as a seat, said sponge that’s the problem, it’s no use otherwise.

and why is that, said sponge, lose the hat? why is that i wonder. would i not make sense to use the cushion as a cushion?
but he wearing it as a hat, said breadroll.
oyes i see what you mean, said sponge, a hat indeed.

would you lose it, said breadroll to a motionless block of wood. of course not, he thinks it is a pillow. or a cushion.
at least the headline sort of matches the content, said sponge, that is important and not something to be taken for granted.
he doesn’t drop the hat after all, said breadroll.

it is about time now, said breadroll, to take off the hat.
why don’t you, said sponge, do it?
it’s nailed to the seat, said breadroll, can’t move it.
make it happen, said sponge.

a hat is a hat is a hat, said breadroll.
you have a point, said sponge, but a pillow is a pillow is a pillow.
did we not need a cushion, said breadroll.
let’s not rush things, said sponge and smiled. he had worked for a while on this punchline and was glad having managed to stage it so flawlessly.

yes – i’m just besides – yes – brilliant – i will – yes – talk to you – yes, said sponge, we should do something with mobiles one day.
that’ll be phantasic, said breadroll.

fat woman, said sponge; he was silenced. —
we remember: the was a time of them three together and now there is not a tiome of them three together and nonetheless one of them has come up with and idea: –
we should invite the brainy child one day, said breadroll, just for the laugth.

nonetheless we want clarity and that’s where the starting title ends.
that’s a bit rude, said sponge, abit abit.
we really have lost her, said breadroll, there’s no way out.

very politically uncorrect the titles have got, said breadroll, recently.
very, said sponge. ————————
there was a sudden and lenghty pause that neither could bridge.

we gone through all the possiblitities, said breadroll, but no chance of retrieval; she seems to be gone for good.
that’s that answered, said sponge, the headlines participate quite a lot recently.
they do, don’t they, said breadroll, what do you think?
they had tea again.

i thought you’d never ask, said sponge, well initially i thought we should have tea again but we did that anyway, surprisingly, and then i thought it would be better to settle the thing with the fat lady, woman i should say, but she seems to be gone so that not an option so i thought it would be good to mess up the words in a sentence a bit to rattle a few cages and wake people up a bit, mil dly ton ot tos tres sth epo int to omu chchch.
he bowed.

sponge: that caught me cold.
breadroll: what? it is obvious me asking that so not might sound a bit boring.
sponge: obviously. they did not bother putting the yucca tree out. see —- [points, no tree, obviously] ——– and i’ve been told to shut up and not go on about it.
breadroll: right.
————–
sponge: what’ll we do now?

what to do i do not know, said sponge, and a sarcastic headline does not help improving things. titles should be helpful, understanding and with a meaning. of course they should reflect the story somehow.
shall we have meeting, said breadroll.
without agenda, said sponge, it would be quite useless.

having to come up, said sponge, with something witty each and every day is quite a burden. —— it does not always work. sometimes. really. but it’s rare, ever so often. today i would say much, not if i was you.

we should stick to the point, said sponge, i know i keep repeating myslef but the email i am getting do likewise.
myself it should be, said breadroll, you said …
i know, said sponge, bloody typo. —— long pause ——. the headlines are a real pain.
you don’t say, said breadroll.

didn’t say that. i didn’t say that, said sponge; he acted nervously.
you will draw some kind of suspicion on you, said breadroll, and you should inform the government about the gang thing.
what gang thing, said sponge.
the headline thing, said breadroll.
ohya that, said sponge, that was a scare.
good, said breadroll, for headlines are friends not stalkers.

it was a pillow after all, said block of wood and took off the hat. —— i am back, he said. no answer. i am back.
yucca tree, two chair: the stage was empty.
in other words: he was alone
the world is a stage, said block of wood, we’ll talk to the audience.

so, said sponge, you thought it should be a cushion and breadroll thought it was a hat.
that’s right, said block of wood.
and breadroll, said sponge, wanted it to be a pillow.
cushion, i think, yes, said block of wood.
that’s mad, said sponge.

some people are not good at anything, said breadroll, at least they try, although it sometimes would be better they they wouldn’t.
he held a candle for no apparent reason and was very aware of that fact.
a candle to remember things, he said. fat woman or fat lady, for example, man or mouse, with regard to episode featuring the former, lions led by donkeys, in case we do something in that area. as you see our future plans are vision-packed. we ourselves are viewer-focussed, and all that should please the audience.

bloob. blobb. blobb. bloob. porridge. rigidly porridge. that’s all we have these days, said sponge.
not true, said breadroll, we have jam, butter, cheese, sausages, eggs, chocolate.
but no porridge, said block of wood.
no porridge, said breadroll.
and toast, said block of wood.
how could i forget toast, said breadroll, tell me how could i?

too tired to get up the three chose a different narrative style:
should we call each other names?
to stay in tune with the title we really should wait until it get a little bit brighter outside.
we should have gone outside. you’re absolutely right about that.

well now, said sponge, it’s time to summarise. i’ve sent you all an email about it.
did you, said block of wood.
i did, said sponge, how nice of me.

why the honour of email?
to mark the end of the wit awareness week.
i did not not it was on.
me neither. but it worked out well didn’t it?
as if we had practised it.
they had tea.

two chairs, yucca tree; radio on
so, when is everybody coming?
we are not waiting for anyone.
i see.

says sponge: it won’t be much today. nothing has been scheduled and a lot has been forgotten abput; it all should have been planned and therefore there is not much today.

what are, said sponge, you doing?
counting, said breadroll, sheep backwards; to wake me up.
nifty, said sponge.
my secret weapon, said breadroll.
short dialogue. done.

can we skip this now, said sponge. i know we did this before and i know that it is the oldest trick in the booklet but it is not as old if you consider that we just recently came up with it.
and if you call it auld trick you’ll have the benefit of tradition and nostalgia. breadroll had said that.

today in lights of the day we present sponge of breadroll, sponge and block of wood with our queries.
q: what keeps you going all day?
a: simple things. things like the difference between ginger tea and green tea for example.
q: which is?
a: ginger tea does not contain gin but green tea is indeed green.
q: ish.
a: ish, precisely.

today in lights of the day, i mentioned it earlier, we present sponge of breadroll, sponge and block of wood with our queries. but now for some music in between today.
[some music you can imagine]
tough, said breadroll, i’d love to show my bit now and say it.
that, said block of wood, would be. he leaves us guessing.

presenter looks deranged, derailed and crooked
q: a fat man, very large, ended up sitting beside me this morning on the train.
interupting a: a fat woman by any chance?
q: no, certainly a fat man.
a: what a shame.
meanwhile outside:
a shame indeed, ladies and gentlemen, said breadroll, we missed her by a syllable.

usual setting, usual surroundings, usual sounds, usual steps to take to get were one should.
q: so, what do you make of it all, what do you think?
a: i’m glad you asked.
sponge leans back, has a drop of water from his glass.
any professional would tell you that, he says.
q: and you spell professional with only one eff?
a: and two ess, definitely. — that in my view is the best way to approach the issue, which admittedly is a hot topic, without losing one’s focus and vision but at th same time not lettign anything come in your way if you know what i’m saying.
a large commercial enters the room. don’t worry about me, says the commercial, i’m on a break.

the presenter announces a further song and the following happens:
block of wood turns into his ultra-violent alter ego and the presenter will have his head smashed in (badly), his heart cut out (a marble), his liver removed (about time) and his bottom roasted by blokk..
q: fnnn fnnnn fnn fnnnn?
a: i know you want to provoke me to burst into a song but i’m not that type of celebrity at all.

q: that was an unnecessary display of of violence in the morning fnnn zwooook if i may say so hotokk mooo uill.
i enjoyed the publicity, said block of wood, even though i personally detest violence. —— brutality yes, violence no. it is that simple if we all work together.
a: i advice you not to ask for music again, song jingle anything.
q: the aversion towardssss music, is that a new trait fnnnn? the presenter has a little white drop of spittle on his upper lips when he speaks.

block of wood would not get away with it this time. all these good words now, none of them could change it. ——
an inquiry with a view of getting special consultants in at a later stage was launched to thoroughly investigate the matter before these consultants could be involved but after a shile everyone got very confused and the whole case was dropped. one agreed, however, to issue a stern warning.

q: deliver.
a: offer.
q: provide.
a: focus.
q: build.
a: enhance.
q: encourage.
i knew it would happen, said breadroll, anagram. what we waited for.
did we, said block of wood.
no.
annabloom?
no.

having the presenter as an inflatable object — the only state he could be restored into after the assault — was clearly an advantage at night-time when the studio was to be cleared and the presenter could be tucked away in a drawer but this morning the drawer appeared to be jammed.
i could have guessed when i saw the headline. — i was actually lucking forward to more biting questions, said breadroll.
they are rather queries i think, said block of wood.

and when he drawer is still locked, said breadroll.
jammed, said block of wppd, should be fine.
jammed then, said breadrool, you have been typoed.
so have you, said block of wood.
a draw, said breadroll.
today was not the first time they did not notice their porridge being reduced to cinder on the cooker.

and bringing brekst in would have resolved the issue? breadroll clearly wants to make a reference to a yesterday headline.
maybe, said block of wood, if an issue had been raised.

well now, said sponge, the jam is almost over and we shall continue with the interview.
and other aspects, said breadroll.
to be read between the lines on a need-to-know basis, said sponge, yes; we have a presentation here to be trained.
why can we not be just boring one day again, said block of wood.

q: you mentioned some word the reader might not readily understand; would you like to explain?
a: a subject indeed as hairy as the breadnuts you’ve mentioned earlier. we are in an ongoing precess, or process, as the more conservative amongst you might say, but we are actually precessing something here, some shitty old garbage and then we run to the kitchen hoping to find somebody desparate enough to listen to our story, actually if they don’t get away in time they are geting the full story starting when this lad there and then bus came, the full story, thn th keybrroad brks, whata- a shit day. just loockkkkatihs.

q: i hope we are fnnnn all better now.
a: you know the other day i really felt today it’ll open. when the drawer eventually opened, you know what i mean.
q: there was a presence wasn’t there.
a: there was.
fnnn.

fnnnn fssssphphphph. fut fulli fuff’d. horrosho ffffff.
q: it is better with the presence in my presence, is it not?
a: quite certainly.
to protest in an oldfashioned way block of wood shat on the stage, on stage literally, and they all saw it which gave the presenter an enormous boost in his ratings and made block of wood over night a celebrity.
they can’t get me out of this programme easily, he said.
they shall splatter head lice and incontinence ads over his programme for all i care.

it seems to be a policy, said breadroll, to display and almost highlight the inflate-deflate noises. the pressure alternations we are talking about. fair and square we should get a little more than that for it?
fnn flapp tootdle toots, said block of wood, to obstruct, instruct, distract, didact you i want you to get to know my latest brain child: a cap to fit all skulls, kaipirovka my dear.

so what’ll we going to do now, said breadroll.
i don’t know, said block of wood, just do whatever it takes to have fun i presume. there will be no rehearsal.

you had a double portion of puff, said block of wood, and soon you will go for another one.
yes, said breadroll, did not think it would turn out this way. we really should consider industrial action.
of some kind an action, said block of wood.
industrial, said breadroll, as in industrious.
fnn. fnnnnfff.
q: the social component, is that entirely missing in your, shall i dare say, art? stuff?
a: i’m a socialist, always have been.

i did come to ask a question, herr brekst said. a question or two, to be correct, a query.
breadroll and block of wood sat with the deflated presenter. sponge was nowhere to be seen (bathroom? my first guess.). a scene of tranquility and peace (still in bed?).
the presenter had told the others about the burning questions he still has to ask in the name of his audience (who will be rewarded with a portable barbeque kit – one for each)(is he hiding somewhere?) but unfortunately today did not seem to be a success (alright, i give up, where is he?).
i pulled a nose hair, the full length of it, herr brekst said, but that is although a success not the reason why i am here.

they did ask me, said breadroll to make the first line and that is exactly what i did — right now i did it. not that i did not do exactly the same thing before but that is a second line now which i believe everyone has been waiting for.
he loiters for a while.

actually, said sponge and appeared stern, actually the waiting bit is not scheduled and we are actually not waiting for anything at all; officially — a semicolon is a way to avoid a new sentence.

so, said breadroll, it’s me again; but as i say there is always a second line. ————– he waits. well i suppose, he says, there’s no point me hanging around. the first line is done, apologies went it wasn’t funny and that’s me done. ———– he waits. no point really, he says.

long lines stand for deep thought in printed media, herr brekst said, to show what’s going on and that it is going on inside people’s heads, or what should go on (nothing, more often than not). it also stands for a longer pause (brackets are popular, too, to express thought). you didn’t think that, did you. ——————— bet you didn’t. ——————— me neither (as in would have thought so(. there you go, wonders everywhere but this episode still strikes me as somewhat unfinished.

————— it is up to me i suppose, said sponge, so say it: the episode started rather without significant events, not even the odd bleak sun was to rise over the roofs. ———
this line for example marks a break, herr brekst said and points vaguely at sponge, between sponge’s part and mine.

if that’s ok, herr brekst said, the thing with the lines then what isn’t but i wouldn’t know whether or not it was ok; all i know is …
well shall never know — at least not too soon — as herr brekst starts hitting himself. slaps on wrist first, then ears, nose, the works.
to join in, said blokk, i would have to be motivated.

fnnnn ftkftkftk fnnnnb.
q: how do you create this tense sense of cohesion, this cohesive co-co and shen?
sponge, walking outside, dawn, no yucca tree. this morning when i woke up i had this feeling of importance, said sponge, a feeling of importantness almost. that wears off though. almost immediately.

herr brekst, bruised, wanted a steak, which he subsequently bought in a shop. he wanted the steak rare, with onion rings and mash. kitchen staff explained that open food was not allowed. herr brekst, disgruntled, spilt coffee on today’s script.

a brief description of the scene’s static elements, followed a series of fnnnnnnns and …
q: but how do you do it? cohesive correlations of contra countercohesion seems to be a rather complex matter that you nonetheless master without problems at all.
a: that’s right.
q: our viewers certainly would be interested in that matter.
a: arent’t they always, the nosy buggers.
q: brown nosers.
a: curious cacs.
further description of the scene’s static elements as well as states of the dynamic ones.

the sun shone, for i like the word shone. not more to report. on with the show.
q: we know about the scenery, alright. we are well sufficiently informed about our opinion on our viewers’ lack of ignorance. however, we woould like to know more about what you’ve said to the president of the united mates when you met last month.
a: we never met after all.
q: great to hear; and what didn’t he say?
—— breadroll served a steaming pot of tea. too late, for almost everyone had gone at this point.

the comedy interplay:
you know now, when i told you, said sponge, the thing about the headlines, yes?
of corrs knot. —
now, said sponge, it’s that what i mean there, there above us. all. keep it there. you understand what i’m saying?

for some reason the pot is always steaming but the tea is always cold. they should stop serving steaming pots.
q: what then? if the pot policy changes?
a: that wasn’t me who said this; just because i’m in the same episode as the quote it doesn’t mean i said it, does it?
q: who said it then?
a: brekst did, i think. (he said fink to emphasise the importance).
q: brekst eh?
a: yes.

this is my favourite word at the minute, herr brekst said and pointed upwards. see the headline, he said.
herr brekst says a lot of things over a period of time but that does not mean they ought to be taken seriously. even though this is only a small, one could even think, insignificant piece of information we stil like to point out that this is neither an official statement nor by any means what herr brekst really wanted to say.
on second thought, herr brekst said and grew silent.

on second thought, said brekst and grew silent again.
he wanted to tell about his depression which was not accompanied by insomnia and feeding frenzy but he did not. a slim and slender man in his best years, well rested and depressed. it goes without saying that he could not continue the episode for the moment.

fnnnnf.
q: would you say you can focused better in a world where stimuli are rather rare?
a new sound, said breadroll, a subtle variation. what was it i wanted to say?
no idea, said block of wood.
something about the poetry, said breadroll, of sound but nothing i assume i haven’t said before.
this consistence is what i love, said block of wood.

i wanted to explain the meaning of th word quagmire and why it ended up as a title for an episode but i reckon i won’t, herr brekst said and spread this aura of depression again. one should invent a spray or something against that.
well now, said breadroll, the presenter is scared now.

we should all line up for friday and wait, said breadroll. he smirked; he thought the line was hilarious.

they sat in a circle, waiting for something.
that is how quickly innovations crumble, said breadroll.

a: would i be, i, that’s me, be, better focused?
q: focused better. fnnnf.
a: focused better? no. i wouldn’t say so if you asked me.
fnnnnb. they discussed it in further detail.

let’s discuss it now, said breadroll.
what, said block of wood.
that’s what i hate at times, said breadroll, one tries to be all serious and open to discussion and some-one appears to be the unbriefed, pretending to have no clue.
well, said block of wood, let’s discuss it ten.
discuss what, said breadroll.

whenever, said breadroll, he makes the fnnnnn sound my skin goosepimples.
there is no such word, said block of wood.
so what, said breadroll, the fnnnnb sound drives me honkers instead.

poor me. poor me. poooor poor, me.
what happened? why this outburst (strong word!) of disappointment (devastation rather; self pity), this sudden outbreak of devastated morale (we mentioned devastation; repeating and rephrasing sentences without apparent reason or narrative need used to be a quality of writers paid by the word.).
sponge’s hopes of being able to present an interviewer his insights in a finely crafted conversation, headed and tailed and fullbodiedly connected in between had been spoilt by a series of events that partially have been reported already or will be — in non-chronological order — told in due course, alternating between points in time but not in this episode which is — to utterly confuse the reader — set in the here and now.

this was supposed to be my interview, said sponge, my little space in time but alas — it was not meant to be. did not happen.
empty street, grey day, wind blows a plastic bag across street, plastic bag gets caught, struggles in wind; tough being, no doubt.

fnnnnn fnaabb fnnabbb. we strive for variance, the producer said.
q: this is your special time to tell us all about you.
a: your ass.
q: has been amputated as a result of a violent assault that turned out to be a big misunderstanding of snorts.
a: sorts or snots.
q: of snorts indeed.

that’ll be, said breadroll, it. (sharply spoken t, like and explosion).
it, said block of wood, sucks. (spoken as x for an s).

ti, sponge, that’s it backwards. much better — preferable; less offensive that way as there could be breasts all over the place. it’s, that swings tits in it, doesn’t it. [pause. in a perfectly clean breakfest scenario breadroll and block of wood are having breakfast. a healthy breakfast not a stealthy one as a man needs to do a man's day work] —– it’s, you’d see them swinging, wouldn’t you. that would not be right.

“more taxis, less brag”, the people cried, “more taxis, less brag”, as the general election were nigh, and politician were generally nice and promising, almost rock’n'roll but not quite but rock’n'roll is flexible and in the move. getting there.
more taxis would have helped us during the motion ban, said sponge, much more than actually did and certainly more than the government is bragging about.
which explains the public opinion. that’s what sponge said who shares an opinion on these things.

there’s a picture of a bearded man in the paper, said sponge, and he does not look happy.
he’s not supposed to, said breadroll, he’s a hate preacher. the government gets them out for christmas to make people aware of global conflicts.
very well, said sponge, we shall engage in propaganda then. is there a policy or just a procedure?
there is breakfast first, said breadroll, most minorities are starving and therefore, i order to obey minimum standards of decency chocolate croissants should consumed before ridiculing said minorities.

i don’t care if you give me presents, said the child who had called in for surprise and to be cute, i shall have enough from the fat man.
at least one child’s soul saved for the faith, sponge thought.

it’s christmas, christmas, chartmas it is indeed, said sponge. he waited for reply.
happy christmas then (the reply), happy christmas for it’s christmas. let’s make a point and point it out: it’s christmas.; crisscross crustmas.
buy your own copy if you haven’t got one yet. only limited number available, offer must end 26th.
so you weren’t invited then?

this is the day when we are all fed up with each other, said breadroll, and beat each other up and down the road.
this tradition was founded by a geezer called stephen who was a dubious character who loved beers with the word crown in the name: king’s crown, crown castle, crown & down, etc-rown. he also loved other things but he never spoke about it. once or twice perhaps but not often.

YOU’VE BEEN FISHBURGERED (a note said that).
you don’t find capital letters too often these days, said sponge.
that brings me back actually, said breadroll, wonder what fishburger is doing.
how he is doing, said block of wood, how is he doing?
what’s this fishburger lark all about, said sponge.
nothing, said breadroll.
special, said block of wood and a silence bubble burst.
just a lust to ridicule religious symbols, said breadroll.

we’re almost done, said sponge. fnnnnnnnn. what do you say to that? that’s annoying me now, he mutters. he punches the presenter. punch kapoww whazz thudd arrgglll whaddyarggh tchttr kashll kapowww zoing zack pow thuddz thokk. i shall feel very sorry about this tomorrow but right now i am under the influence of that marriwannabeer which apparently makes you extremly aggressive. and horny, but that is for that for the evening part when the mammies are still going and the children are in bed. fuck sake i should have said that.
tea, said block of wood.

this will be quick, said sponge. he pointed at the sparse interior. no politics, he said, or breaking news. no father of two slaughtering a mother of three with a sixty year old grandmother of eight from donegal. no cabaret. this will be over when i’m finished with my tea. which is now, almost.

if i say now, said sponge, that’s it for the year it’ll be seen as one of those jokes one used to crack as a child: i shall not wash again for the yearshall not shave again for the year or mother not wanting to cook again in this year, jokes ill-perceived just one or two days later, but that’ll be it, it for the year and no joke.

a brandnew year it is, said block of wood. he then carefully listened to voices. brandnew it is, the used to reply, as that’s what we asked for. yesteryear you’ll get if you don’t.
obviously it is a big nonsense that you only get a new year when specifically asking for it and a revamped yesateryear if you don’t; the government made sure to have a copy for everyone.

this is it, said sponge and smirked. there are days with far less memourable things are to report.

so everything is still alright still then, the man said.
sponge, breadroll and block of wood did not know what to make of it.

i can make neither heads nor tails of it.
i can make neither heads nor tails of it.
i can make neither heads nor tails of it.
says sponge, says breadroll, says block of wood.
didn’t we forget anything, says breadroll, no?
yes.
amen (all).

i think we did. (emphasising i as oi to make a point.)
what?
forgot something.
did we?
yes. no. i’m telling you.
did we forget anthing?
yes something.
no way.
(above lines should be evenly distributed between breadroll, sponge and block of wood. the man was present but silent)
——— could we not come up with a punchline, perhaps?

now, said sponge to breadroll who had cornflakes instead of porridge, now: here’s the deal. you go over to the viewers’ association with this box file and the day that’s in it for review. they want to impose sanctions on us but first want to make sure we would be able to comply with them.

is it delivered?
yes.
the whole box?
yes.
all our ideas, views and rare jokes in it?
think so.
great. where’s block of wood?
still there. he thought a blokk stint would scare them.
gfreat, said sponge, so tomorrow we shall be pleased to hear him say ‘i only threatened them for the sake of it, no bad intentions, no hard feelings’.

idiot, said block of wood, for revealing today’s big line already yesterday.
and you lied, said breadroll, as he’s not saying it after all.
not if he says it again, said sponge.
i won’t said block of would.
that’s that solved. they went about their business.

and now? sponge seemed disgruntled. no proaction, no activity at all.
nobody moved.
see what i mean? sponge pointed.
nobody looked.
wouldn’t it be great to get away from it all? sponge longed and sighed. he nodded. we leave him to it. nothing will happen.

we should start drinking in the morning, said sponge, to discourage children taking up our lifestyle.
and other drugs, too, said breadroll.
bugdet permitting, said block of wood.

after the motion ban, said sponge, our legs were stiff, we could hardly walk. he said thesewords like someone who is very sure of himself, someone who believes his message should be spread.
i think we had exactly the same episode before, said breadroll.
do you think so, said sponge, is it the message bit?
no, said breadroll, don’t know.

do you think so, said sponge.
yes, said breadroll, we repeat things and thinks as well.
ideas should be available, said sponge, we could nick some.
tea, said block of wood.
we really try to make a point here, said breadroll but it was to late; his last three words were caught it a repeater and morphed in the background.
at the more pleasant side of life we would see mommies spoil kids rotten at the swings-and-slides. they would share the space with pensioners and unemployed people nonsensing time away, an advertisement would occasinally brighten their day. that would give enough to talk about when they would meet their accomplishing partner whose days where not brightened by advertisements. whatever happens to the persoiners and the unemployeds we don’t know.
tea, said block of wood, that was a bit dull.
always, said breadroll, and we get to repeat what the other has said.

to say tits surely is not as bad as showing them, said breadroll. i have none myself but if i had i would not have time for people objecting me from showing them. that’s me. i love to butter spread on me, too. that’s me, should do.
we could gp on about spreads without being overly offensive. we’ve got to show something, said sponge, and the plan to turn the office into a porn studio is an appealing one.
a plan, said block of wood. tea anyone.
we cannot turn anything into some other thing without approval, said breadroll.
and plan, said sponge, right. that episode did not work out as expected. i thought there would be more approar about the porn quote.

by way of repetition a yucca tree came into display, a sadly lanky one, and a chair. no-one on it. no-one had bothered to appear. that’s what the man thought as well who had had coffee on his own now for his nineth year in a row. pretty sad bastard he was and had developed a few habits that would ensure that he’ll stay lonely for another while. no-one had botherd to appear.
breadroll with wild salmon, lime, spring onion, that’ll be a treat instead of a silly and sad story.

here you go, said breadroll, some bisquits?
no thanks, said block of wood, we have to do this more often.
we do, don’t we, said breadroll.
that is about all there can be said about serving tea.

we’ve got issue, said sponge, that need to be addresse; the fat woman, the man, the lack of meeting, this and that, the fat man.
the fat man? block of wood seemed to be confused. the fat man?
yes, said sponge, an issue that needs to be addressed, enveloped and stamped.
in an uneventful life this seemed to be a new low.

i think we need a war again, said sponge, things have gone a bit unenthusiastic lately.
a new start, said breadroll, is what we need.
new start yes, said sponge, and a piece of toast, maybe, extra.
that’ll be swell, block of wood said, a piece of toast extra.
let’s carry on a bit to make this episode longer, said sponge, shall we? it would be a piece of mirth to me!
no, said breadroll, and block of wood: you just said it, did not exclaim it.

ah well, same shit different day i suppose, said sponge. sometimes life is just it. he did something. not much. it exhausted him. life sometimes is just a thing of its own.
all this was duly taken on board and subsequently approved

look, said sponge, is that him?
who?
him.
no.
is it a politician, said block of wood.
neither.
no no, said breadroll, it is a lump of lard. just left there in the open beside the carpark just like that; a little lump.
they closed the curtains. constantly being reminded other people’s misery, said sponge.

did anybody see, said sponge.
you know, said breadroll.
the secrecy rules, said block of wood.
we stick to them, said breadroll
fully implement them going forward, said block of wood.
as they do apply outside the box, said breadroll.
so nobody saw, said sponge.
nobody, said breadroll, we would disclose.
but we could two thirds of the letters for a prayer, said block of wood.

soccer, said herr brekst, sucker. smørrebrøb err –brød. that’s what every other lad wants.
we were so very delighted to see herr brekst safe and sound albeit somewhat clinically depressed that we did not challenge him on his latest statement. what did he come for anyway?

sponge: you know that they’re jumpy.
breadroll: the episodes.
yes, the reader knows that.
sponge:the narrative stream.
the reader is aware of that. this is the early 21st century which really is the late 20th century and the reader has been repeatedly confronted with literary experminents and has developed a likeing or at least a tolerance so the littering effect should be fairly reasonable.
breadroll: the stream of narration is virtually non-existent.
the reader is aware of that. this is the early 21st century which really should be called or at least be known as the late 20th century (if we may make a point there or two) and the reader has been repeatedly exposed to experminents involving passages of readibility and has developed a likeing and thus an aeruptive discharge of spending power hence the readiculing effect should be fairly tolerable.
block of wood: the way we are presented.
sponge:inconsistent.
breadroll: i’m cold.
sponge: naked word. that’s it.
yes.

we pissed the viewers off didn’t we?
nnnnn-o, said sponge. he had put thought gehind his reply. i am not saying this to merely to calm you down, breadroll, if you don’y mind me calling you that —–
i would not wish people to know, said breadroll, ralf or maybe rolf is far less a commitment, normal is hormonal as they say.
and what now, said breadroll, ready to come up with the same question again.

and now, said sponge.
and now, said block of wood. breadroll, tired, had told him to do the talking. you do the talking, he had said and had looked away to disencourage disagreement.
and now, said block of wood after sponge had said it again. and now and now and now and now and now and now.
it’s over, said sponge, we can stop now.

the book of what? not often have we seen breadroll so surprised. what do you want to do that for?
the same question was put to the man in the coffee shop who wanted to pay later. equally he knew no answer.

and what about the others? what about them?
what about them? sponge choose a different intonation to sound convincingly surprised. what?
let’s have a power meeting. alright?
fine.
ok.
we’re running out of time.

hardly any of that time left, said sponge, a few bit, not enough to build an hour even.
that’s terrible, said block of wood.
you always say that, said sponge.
what, said breadroll.
terrible.
terrible.
they fade out.

can we roll back on those tits, said sponge. we seem to be obsessed with it.
breadroll: wrroooah.
exactly this reaction, said sponge. how did we get so far?
well, said breadroll, from me having objects and inserted, me split open and spreads applied to the word tits is a way as short as toe to heel.
anyway, said sponge, we should stop. kind of. woffle woffle. kapoow kapoow. blokk has a weapon and know how to use it. he suspects sponge and breadroll to be but that’s really silly zwosh zwoing.

now peace brother, said breadroll, it ’tis as it ’tis.
yea, said block zwaaash thud arrgl, ass is missing, hasn’t been seen in donkeys’ years and that’s how far puns go these days whack dem.
that’s true, said sponge, that puns lately are just good for jam. thad tid zwirrgl. could someone turn that noise off thanks?

can you hear me. blokk was in the shouting phase of his rage special. he know over the lamp. you can’t, bollocks.
we have to knock him off soon.
yes. it’s getting repetitive, said breadroll, how about a poem?
brekst? nah. we really should do something with …
phones?
yes.
no.
yes.
no.
let’s discuss it.
power meeting?
no. mower peating?
sounds good.

more brutality. less foetality. and we will come up with more hot hit words if needed. all you need to do is get your penis extended.
we’re not going to do that, said sponge, that would cause confusion.

thiteradig agagadi ga g adigathe rararetita gagrtatatrgatgatha asadhith thi thit thit. thiteradig agagadi ga g adigathe rararetita gagrtatatrgatgatha asadhith thi thit thit.
is that?
yes. one of those …
loops again. when the cable’s fucked and the digital jammed.
neither nor was impressed. sponge even though of  doing some mad thing to protest.

we should tipitoe and tumble down the stairs, shouldn’t we, said sponge.
blessed the days of the motion ban, said breadroll, when tipitoe and tumble down the stairs was not an option.
this witty remark brings the episode to a suitable ending and conclusion. nothing more to say.

what are we, said breadroll, me and ye. nowst a pole and then a pile, nowst a wonder and a plunder then. we are a rye, a hog and what sins our smarting than an inert and angstful whatsoever leverage. phoooiy foooo, that’s it. our red arses shine to heavens loke no tomorrow.
he’s got it again, said sponge, blood fat level below acceptable. what shall people think?
that it is time to eat, said block of wood, excessively.

and i stepped right into it, said breadroll, right there, here to toe, danish, german and seven pints of the black stuff. with indian, or chinese, but no noodles. congregated, consolidated.

i hate to say that ,said sponge, everybody who knows me now that i would not make a lame joke if i didn’t have to, but that’s what i call a big thing on screen. — he points at a squashed flesh fly on the screen. see, i had too.

mind you, said blokk, still in squasher mood —- utlra passiv-aggressive with a worrying active-aggressive streak, he was actually meant to be slightly more depressive but there was a last minute ok for this version — we used to eat flies with our eggs.
but we didn’t seek to, said sponge, the flies got between the eggs by accident.
that was funny, said breadroll, for the people watching. a bit nutty-crunchy.

i don’t know what to say, said breadroll, really, i could sit here for hours, well minutes and talk but when i pick up my ear starts to sweat and that’s that. silence. —- the phone keep ringing. some people have all the time in the world. i’ve seen a cartoon once where a man says that.

with this nose attached to you one could say you look like moe hermit, said sponge who felt lucky not having to wear the funny nose. you’d think that’ll cause burning irish flags but no, it’s carneval and decent as we folks are we staged the tableau as a dark room scene and people can only see our genitals.
hoho, said block of wood who had wear a hat like hitler, we still would envy breadroll for his mao whiskers. he did a few gestures purely to kill time. risking that we’re stuck here forever i suggest we do a few funny games just to kill some time.

and that is where it all ends, the man said and closed the book. he maintained the smile until the cameras were off and then resorted into his usual seeking-employment, starved of love and life type of look, a subspecies of grin albeit without the jolly aspects. overrated as lowrate he felt uncomfortable. people who feel uncomfortable sport a forced smile. it is that simple. they are good sports and spare us their pain.
sponge begged to pardon but no avail. the episode was over. over. not only a breadroll is saying that. sometimes we all agree.

the man did not wipe the grin off his face. on the kisser, thought blokk but even he had to admit: people who feel uncomfortable sport a forced smile, it is that simple, and brutality won’t do the trick. it’s all about money. brutality yes, violence no, that’s the important thing; it is that simple i’ve been saying it all along. but that’s me.
the man did not move until his appointment arrived. he then got up. speedily as we observed, kissed hello, waved goodbye and left. ceased grinning as we just talk to each other, that simple. next thing to do. brutal.

we are chums, said sponge and breadroll: no, chaps.
this disagreement, the way things were, would have called for smacks but due to today’s seating arrangements they could not reach each other as their arms were too short.

chumchums we are, said sponge, as to emphasise what i pointed out previously. a certain fatigue has snked in and we are set to tackle it err it. for modernists we even throw in a few letter combinations. speeeeetch iz ze trigger off zet ohl fnnnnn.
in all fair- and rroundness, said breadroll, pass the fat butteer. ze yellow wan. pls.
iz ze gutt ze brott, said sponge. whensa the germann accento gonnah endh. we’re going on slippy slippers wearing slips only sense-of-humour-wise.
that’s alright, said sponge, somebody is goinck to come.

and another whirls the dust, said sponge and folded the paper. egg in his face. named and shamed as a terrorist. extraordinary rendition, the works.
he shouldn’t have bought the cheap type of ruckskack, said breadroll, that made him suspicious. could you pass me the butter.
shall i spread it, said block of wood.
no, said breadroll, did they blow him up?
yep, said sponge, full blast. you can book it on pay-tv if you want.
nah, said breadroll, i’ll watch it when it’s out on the free channel.

exactly, said sponge, the free channel, that’s what we stanf dor.
thought we would notice? thought we think everyone has a spellcheck these days so i must be meant to? nah, no such thought. that what we stand for. unpaired goals. you must have an email about it.
i have developed a thing with it but i love to be cc-ed in, certainly.
and if i bcc-ed you in?
not now you see but let’s txt.

is this it, said sponge again, sponge said again more so, and inhaled noisily. he’s holding his breath now, explained breadroll for those who thought to have missed exhalation, it’ll be soon. but it never came.
no, the man said, a different man this time, we have to pull the plug first, something we currently contemplate doing.

to contemplate

• look at thoughtfully; observe deep in thought; “contemplate one’s navel orange”
• consider as a possibility; “i have always contemplated leaving school and taking up the art of art forgery. well that would have been swell. can you see me there, in the world of arts? can you? i certainly can. there’s always a possiblility.”
• study: think intently and at length, as for spiritual purposes; “he is meditating in his sleep”
• chew over: reflect deeply on a subject; “i forgot about the events of the afternoon”; “philosophers have speculated on the question of food for thousands of years”; “the artist must stop to observe and start to observe”. fullstop.

make it so.

my phone will take care of that, said sponge, my phone will ring on time. with a phone like this i’m sorted, i really am.
and sorted he was, it was perfectly right for him to say so; having signed up with the company in order to receive this phone along with regular updates and occasional upgrades and to be on the list, in the know and out of trouble was the best thing he had done in a long while.
the best thing i did in a long while, said sponge, the others are thinking of signing up, too.

see, told you, said sponge, we should do something about phones.
you wanted to say fones, said breadroll, because it’s groovier. i think so, too, by the way.
i tried, said sponge, but the spell check picked up on it. but i don’t think it’s groovier. gruuvier maybe, but not the other thing.
aggressive?
no. the other thing.
i give up ,said breadroll and had tea. as usual.
as usual, said sponge who hated his comments being anticipated. the writer could fake it he thought, but no avail. we could have a power meeting to discuss it, he said. they all had left.

whatever you say or do or think of doing or saying, do it or say it or think of doing or saying it with great care and in an educated manner as a phone is no toy.
did we agree on doing something with phones, said breadroll.
on phones, said sponge. we maybe using them so we do something with them on them.
was that agreed, said block of wood.
exactly: subject to further discussions.

i think i take out my phone, said sponge.
i tend to object, said a man, most assertively, i assumed doing something with phones was not the same as taking out one’s phone and hence have to decline. the latter usually invites texts being sent for no reason to the unsuspecting victim briefing it of answers to questions that never had been asked.
i think i open up a spreadsheet and have it all in front of me on the computer, said sponge and did so. he stared at a conglomerate of numbers he could not figure out and acted utterly unupset about not having been told about the spreadsheet’s existence. fullstop.

we now know that we are controlled, said sponge.
and therefore, said breadroll.
we are able to approach things, said block of wood, in a more controlled manner as we would have before the beans were spilled and and the news broken. a shame you call that?
why do you speak funny, said breadroll.
i thought, said sponge, respect for religious groupings would command this. particualrily when restricted phone use is part of it. i just want to make a point.
or draw a line, said breadroll.

and now? what now, they said. quietness. all seemed confused, no moves. i thought we were guided, said breadroll, so why are we bored?

that shmock, sad block of wood. he had read this word in a novel and drew great pleasure from using it: shmock. he said it when sponge entered the room together with an unknown man. hi, said the man and extended his hand to have it shaken. tea, said block of wood and ignored the hand.
hi, said the man. his name is will, said sponge to block of wood, i met his outside. he needs to relax a little bit more but i think he’s alright.
will he stay, said block of wood, and the man replied, will, that’s me. i’m here to tell you about the free children of cod further and his son chippers spiced.
free, said block of wood, are you sure?
will was absolutely sure, he said there was no doubt about it, one would have to trust him on that and one would not be disappointed if one had the guts or grace to follow him.
nobody would. a disappointing day. — what a day indeed.

we broke his heart, said sponge and realised a lack of short term memory. who am i talking about, he said, is it the mysterious man in the café on the other end of town? is it?breadroll made a face. hope we didn’t cause any mess.
no no. no mess. all clean.
because if we had caused a mess, we would need to clean and could not sit and talk sociably.
no, we could not.
they had caused a considerable mess which, howerver, had been swept under the carpet and hence could be neglected.
we should come up with something for the day, said sponge.

he held a small greenish stick in the air. this is, said sponge, a cucumber stick. not a carrot stick of course, not as fancy, but nonetheless a stick and better than nothing. it can be dipped in mayonnaisse or any other gooey substance that sticks to objects.

we won’t get far with only one stick.
no?
never.
bummer. i was hoping to.
what?
nothing. i suppose one can’t be witty all the time.
no. one cannot.

what a day they will say when it will end tonight, said sponge, but there is some time until then.

yesterday, the man said, yesterday over 34509 toilets were flushed in moscow alone. i take quite an interest in the amount of toilets being flushed, that’s why i notice these things.
sponge looked at breadroll who had his broader side buttered; that was his way to unwind which firstly was untimely and secondly made a useful discussion on the subject, ahh well whatever, said sponge.

i feel dry, said breadroll with a sweet’n'sour smile.(wipe that grin, thought blokk off the record).
yes, all dry and dreary (lacking in liveliness or charm or surprise) but well sorted otherwise.
like puked milk, said blockk and jabbed a knife laden with lard into breadroll, a roar from tape to besound the lot.
we now cover up the orgy of brutality that we were glad to mention.

now look at this, said bread, bloody hell. i woke up and the roll was gone, would you believe? should i call the priest or the therapist or the gp or the police, so many options for help i don’t know where people would get an idea of despair from. just a metamorphosis that’s all.

it would be bad if it was more than that, said bread, wouldn’t it? a sucker for assurance but not a salesman is sight when you need them.
block of wood, drumming his belly: we’ve got rolls. that was a bit off topic.
metamorphosis is the name of a stage illusion invented by mohn nemmel mascerpon, but most often associated with famous magician and escape artist hairy breadnut, and performed to some renown (for speed) by the pee dragons, among many others of course, said sponge. it’ll be over soon.

the process of changing from one form to another, from the larval stage to the pupal stage to the reproductive adult stage, said sponge, that’s what we are facing daily in our streets, on our trains and most obviously here in our own little midst.
i just feel a pain there, sad block of wood, which was a gross thing to say.
i know it’s needless to say but i say it anyway, said sponge, it’s a … that’s that.
we didn’t say much about the man in the café who didn’t want to pay immediately and stuff. never mind. nothing has happened so far. it is a slow café. we complained as well to no avail.

pronounced change of form and change of structure taking place within a comparatively short period of time otherwise known as a whiff, add of time as needed, as the changes undergone by an everyman in passing from the larval to the adult stage where he or she makes him- or indeed herself seen without warning. thus spoke sponge and he added that the roll should back indeed shortly.

he looks sad, said breadroll. he emphasised sad.
he sure does, said block of wood.
it’s the hamburgers, said sponge, they love to be eaten, marginally tasty but very fattening.
so that’s what’s wrong with him, said breadroll.
no, said sponge, it’s just that nobody likes him.

did you like that?
him? like him?
no. that.
oh that. yes.
really?
yes. very nice.
that’s great.
yes, i liked it.
sponge did not like talking to his image mirrrored in a spoon as he caught himself doing —- this, and the fact that the script advised the use of the word leked instead of liked to add something.

breadroll on entering the room, lightly populated by sponge and more recently, block of wood:–
now, what am i doing here?
i don’t know, said block of wood, get out.

breadroll and block of wood are back in the place sponge never has left.
is there anything we can do?
no. nothing.
let’s do it then.
wha?
there’s a t in what.
it’s silent. most of the time.
that’s precisely what the consultant confirmed and recommended himself.

how do we go from there, said sponge and breadroll was happy to reply: around the corner.
are you sure, said sponge, that it is that easy.
as easy as that, said breadroll, i was able to break our speech pattern.
true, said sponge, let’s go.
they moved.

Not far to be honest. around the corner that’s it it. pretty much if you consider. around the corner. so well put in frank english. around the corner. i could say this a thousand times if i had to. but not now. a thousand times. around the corner. fnn. i must oppose to the use of the word err wood and —— actually. now actually, and and actually in a title in the public. sorry for having been having to say taht err that.
fading fnn’s and argue about it.

once again the sun shone on the alternative, for the sake of it, that was very much like the corner before. sponge had a scarf wrapped around his neck, copycat, for no other reason than today being today and the day that was in it; he stood there, nervously rocking back and forth and starred at the window of the shop.
breadroll sang: around the corner we go and around and around till we’re round and you’re round and we all drop like flies at the corner and around and around we go … an old carvery rhyme or nursery song, written in the country’s barbaric tongue.
we’re here now, said block of wood, the corner shop.
is this the corner shop or a corner shop, said sponge.
i wouldn’t know, said block of wood. it is a corner shop.
what did he say, said sponge, which corner shop? did he give further advice? they say they are selling chairs.
no, said block of wood. i’d love a monster munch. or these ripply things.
so it may not be this shop at all at all?
no.
we should look at other corners. shop around.
we could.
let’s go so.
no.
fine.
that’s what i think. —— sound. a very poetic word. this language, i add three dots …

a novel it’s a novel. exitement there was and novelist behaviour. a novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel; funny how words start sounding weird when you keep repeating them for a while, said sponge.
novel. he’s got a point there.

a birthday? sponge hopped with exitement. a funny move but to no avail. do i get to sit wet on a chair like in the old days?
no, he could not do that.
we get to spread a sheet? right, a proper spreadsheet?
no. no spreadsheet.
who’s birthday is it?
someone special, said breadroll.
we cannot tell, said block of wood, it’s confidential; a shame but true.
someone famous, sponge ought to know.
no, a celebrity, said block of wood, tea?
yes. tea, said sponge. we won’t move too much today i reckon.
all in moderation as the english say, said breadroll.
fabulous people, said sponge.

sometimes i think, said sponge, that saying something is not the right answer at all. i sometimes even think i should not have said what i have said. like right now. i should not have said this. i do want you to keep sending me txts. promise? ——— now there is one.

grammar is a gamble.
and i should not have had txtd that for is is just a phrase (but noone will notice).

it came to them like the child to our madonna; they’ve been secretly fucking around with somebody but now could not tell the truth.
well it might have been a vanilla bun, said breadroll.
beside the point. it was there now. immobile. non-negotiable. the call for innovation. it better be a good one for a laugh.

the spirit comes not down from above, or below, up then, said sponge, that spirit which is to purify our project, which with its iron besom is to purify the great sty of the department ultimately. pupupurify our essence. our precious fanatically.
and to do that is the task of our movement, said breadroll, the movement must not rust away at this corner, it must not spend itself in superfluous battles of words, but the banner with the white circle and the black dot will be hoisted over the whole of the project on the day which shall mark the liberation of us all.
nicely put, said sponge. i must rest now.

did he say he would be late, said breadroll, i can’t remember.
but you were there, said block of wood, and i wasn’t.
where you not?
no.
i came to ask a question, herr brekst said and they all knew that spring had arrived but still neither knew the question.

herr brekst did not really care to get answers or attention, he did not really want all that, after all he was a chap to have a pint with, by fair and by square for all that matters or any other saying we could say to his defence on his behalf.
that — or so — was the general opinion, opionion was heard as well, some muttered an oponion, with a whiff of cheese and onion, any cheese in that context, for a crowd had gathered at the corner.
(this crowd then disappeared after herr brekst had paid the taxi driver who kept his mouth shut during the process. there had been some disturbance before which had gone unnoticed indeed by most of us bar that crowd that is currently being beaten up the lot of them. again open brutality prevailed over latent violence.)
breadroll and sponge thought it would be wise to take one corner at a time.
so, no chance for a shop here, said breadroll.
no, said sponge, sadly.

fnnn fnnfnnfnn fnn fn fnnn.
did you close the drawer or did i, said blokkk “brutality” wokk.
you did, said breadroll, or did i? he wasn’t there anyway. and: slurrdshh; had butter all over him. one of those mornings of rushed sexuality.
he should have left a note, said blokkk, still letter-k-ayed.

and there is always something, isn’t there, said sponge. lucky we don’t have a flag to be burn as some people, and i won’t name names or point fingers, but some are easily offended, quickly pissed off, and there is always something to be upset about. always something. — he hesitates. that he wasn’t quite sure he said but everything would be alright as he hoped. just some angst, this angst, that. he said.
——– to end up in a flower pot, not necessarily bad, depending on garden environment. breadroll did not like words like environment as they would be to exotic and to prone to misspelling but that’s not true. on the contrary, fullstop. we hardly use words like this anyway.

you wouldn’t get more support than that; and support is important. that a lump of wisdom block of wood had uttered last night but we decided to fit it in.