the rain falls like there was no tomorrow

it is raining, said sponge.
it is raining, said breadroll, isn’t it.
bloody rain, said sponge.
it raining the entire day.

dada in this context was wrongly referred to for no reason

dada, as is work related, as in labour relevant, does fnothing for people and has no significance in industrial relationships other than being signifcantly present, in presence, past and future tensions.
bravo, said sponge, well done. the others say the same.
bravo, said breadroll, -(and so on).

tits would help sell if it was not for the obstacles

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.

fun topped was the deal

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.

it was a bit over the top indeed

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.

if you think that was witty think again

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?

© the Book of Sponge and Others.