drop this hat

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.

we will drop it before we have to pull out

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.

just a drop

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.

© the Book of Sponge and Others.