we and i have a particular view of the world in common

are we second to none you think, said sponge.
no, said breadroll, not we, third maybe or fourth.
even fifth, said sponge. breadroll approved. probably sixth, he said.
that’s not too bad, said sponge.

the world on a someday

in china somebody got married, a child was born in peru and urinated on the mother’s belly straight away. the mother being somewhat overwhelmed as she had not expeted that, a russian housewife burnt the dinner, however, but this turned out not to be an overly serious incident as the husband had had a serious accident and did not come home for dinner this evening and a long row of evening in future, spent the next seven weeks in hospital instead and after being released he could only take in liquid diet for another six weeks, and an irishman with an poorly grown moustache walked into a pub and proceeded straight to the counter.
all these are very sad stories, said sponge. but i love you all.

a song for the world

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).

© the Book of Sponge and Others.