let’s terminate shall we

utra-violent, said blokk, smash and maim and have moloko.
pheww, said breadroll, that’s as blunt as blitzkrieg and we would try that either.
but do we ever get to kill, blokk wondered, when sponge sparked hope by being very negative again. capital-very. maybe get to take him out, blokk continued wondering.
moods change quickly and soon blokk considered dogs scum of creation for their fowlings.

let’s go let’s go (they did not move)

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 …

let us write the book of sponge

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.

now let’s review this

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.

© the Book of Sponge and Others.