The Sandwich: #47

The Sandwich


The story so far, for people who DON'T PAY ATTENTION! Ahem, I found a sandwich behind my fridge that grew to a colossal size and wandered off, eventually deciding to visit the Lake District. I set off in hot pursuit but caught the wrong train and ended up in Goole, which is apparently still on Planet Earth. I need to raise 1000 pounds to get to Windemere and my most recent adventure as a fire eater resulted in fricasseed elephant. Well, when life gives you cooked elephants, make elephant burgers, as the old saying goes. It's going very well, but now I need more elephant meat, and the local shoe shop doesn't sell it. You see, it's all very straightforward, I don't know what your problem is.

Meanwhile, in a house on the edge of town, a man called Martin Brown has decided to sell the family's pet elephant. They won it at the fair two years ago, but now it's got too big for its tank and it won't fit in the sideboard, so the man called Martin Brown has taken out a classified advert in the local paper, in the Caravanning, Boiler Spares and Exotic Pets section. He's had a man round this morning who came and kicked its ankles, peered up its exhaust but said that he wasn't really what he was looking for. The man called Martin Brown is getting really fed up with time wasters, and if he doesn't get any serious offers by the end of the day, he's going to leave it outside with the recycling and hope that the bin men will take it.

I wonder what are the chances of me seeing his advert?



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