soon we are going to be talking about tomorrow soon

soon. soon soon. repeat. soon.
hours of endless fun said sponge. but soon soon. what will happen? a solution for ravaged offally and its endangered locals. does anyone know where offally is? soon. and so li’eve bloom. where the toilet is. meanwhile we keep looking for a shop. with stuff in it. for sale.
daft little writ, said breadroll. no-one will notice.
a morning dawned, no flavoured coffee around, no office furiture. the simple life at corners. short sentences. tomorrow things’ll better.

why not talk big during innovation and on-target demand

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.

talking the moment away

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.

who does the talking

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.

calendar talks

(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.

© the Book of Sponge and Others.