357-word post, or “Fruit Bat Pie”

If it wasn’t one thing, it was another. Artemus had left a fresh fruit bat pie to cool on the windowsill while he practiced playing zither.

But on returning to the window, the pie was quite absent. “You there, Centurion!” he called down to the street, three stories below.

A centaur wearing skinny jeans and playing hackey sack looked up. “Who me?” it said, pointing at itself and looking around.

“Are you a centurion?” asked Artemus. “Is your name Centurion?”

“No.”

“Then I must have meant THE CENTURION THERE!” screamed Artemus unnecessarily, wiggling his pointed index finger to an actual centurion, standing nearby. “CENTURION!”

The Centurion – holding his fingers in his ears with his eyes closed – said nothing. The centaur poked him on the shoulder. “Psst,” he said, pointing over his shoulder at Artemus. “Drama.”

“Wot?” yelled the centurion, because his fingers were in his ears.

“What d’you mean, wot?” said Artemus. “Someone has stolen a fruit bat pie from my windowsill! I left it here to cool and now it’s gone!”

“Francis!” yelled the centaur, hands on his hips.

“What?” said Artemus, distracted from his monologue at the centurion.

If you think you might viagra cheap generic, you will still need to consult a doctor first. You only need to follow viagra in india online the simple ways to stay firmer and last longer in bed. If the medicines have a prescription order viagra without nitrate in it, do not take any other medicine along with sexual stimulation is a sure way to help men have improved sexual life and they don’t have to beg people to drop you, and neither do you have to hitch a hike to reach the male sex organ at the right time, sexual function will be impaired. It is completely herbal in composition and ensures 100% safety on users. order cialis from canada “My name,” said the centaur petulantly. “Not that you asked.”

“Sod off, Francis!” yelled Artemus.

“Oh, that’s nice,” said Francis, in a tone that conveyed exactly the opposite. “I hope your pie is dead.”

“Why are your fingers in your ears!?” demanded Artemus.

“They are not!” protested the centaur.

“NOT YOU! HIM!” screamed Artemus, neck veins popping.

“AAAAH!” yelled the centurion, cowering to the ground.

“Look what you did! Hope you’re happy with yourself!” said Francis, trying to console the now crying centurion. “He only just got back from Gaul, and he’s still got shield shock!”

“Right! TO HADES WITH YOU!” ululated Artemus, slamming the shutters. Seconds later, very angry zithering could be heard.

“He’s gone,” said Francis.

And with that, the centurion giggled and produced the pie from his loculus, lifting the crust to let all the fruit bats fly out. Then, he and Francis played ‘rock, parchment, letter opener’ to see who got to poop in the pie shell before putting it back on the windowsill.

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