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Humpty Dumpty (standard:Flash, 519 words) | |||
Author: James C. Bernthal | Added: Jan 23 2006 | Views/Reads: 3480/4 | Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
Following the sucess of Jack and Jill, here's my monologue for Humpty Dumpty... feedback is always welcome | |||
Yes, you probably have. Well, who hasn't heard of me? After all, it makes such an amusing little rhyme. Don't you agree? My autograph? My dear little person, how in God's name am I supposed to sign something without my hands? No, no, please don't apologise. I get this all the time You look very fond of your dinner, little girl. Take this advice. No, listen to me. Listen! Stop eating now or you'll get morbidly obese like me. I've been told that I resembled a giant egg when in my prime. I'd always assumed it was because of all the shiny medals the king gave me, which I though resembled the wrapping on Easter eggs. Evidently not. Anyhow, I suppose that like all the others you want to hear the story. Did you know I'm first in line to an Earldom? But it is relevant. Don't roll your eyes, you dubious female – I know where this story's going. You don't. Shut up! Like I was trying to say, brat, my real name is The Right Noble Sir Humpledink Strange of St. Dumpty. That's in Suffolk. I was knighted by the king for my work in the army. He owed me one. So, here's how it was, and God only knows how sick I am of recounting this. You know the great wall of the Dumpty Estate? The tallest wall in Britain, I believe. And as soon as my parasitical father dies it will belong to me. So I figured it would do no harm to climb to the top and sit on it. That way I could see for the first time just how much estate was coming to me, and I could look at glorious England. That was my reasoning. Of course, England wasn't at all glorious. It was under fire. It was at war. One of those missile things came right at me. Down I fell. 2,000 feet. It's just a miracle that that bouncy castle was there to break my fall. It was a great fall. But I fell into pieces nonetheless. No doubt you derive great pleasure from recounting my near-death experience over the dinner table, but do you have any idea how... how very painful it is for one to lose one's arms and legs because of one's unnaturally large weight pressing down upon them? Believe me, it's not nice. Agony... And I hate having to bring it back. Then for some obscure reason, they had the army try to salvage my disjointed limbs to take to the hospital ahead of me. Obviously, being thick as bricks as they are, they clearly thought it would be funny if all the limbs went missing. I believe I saw some sort of corporal trying to smoke something ungodly out of my arm. Prosthetic arms?! You must be joking. Tell me that's a joke. Shut up. I haven't got time for you. But thanks for coming, anyway, Emily. Can I get you anything? Coffee? A digestive biscuit? There are some scrambled eggs in the kitchen, next to the spam. Anything for my favourite granddaughter. THE END Tweet
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James C. Bernthal has 10 active stories on this site. Profile for James C. Bernthal, incl. all stories Email: jamescbernthal@ntlworld.com |