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random topics vol. 4
greetings fellow prosers! welcome to another installment of the randoms. what drove things to this, i shall nor say, what can be done against it, i can not answer. oh, how we came to this sad state...oh, well,just write what you want , using one, some or all of these topics (or none!! that's right who the hell am i to tell you what to do?!?!) and the topics are: 1) christmas trees in june. 2) Achilles the spider. 3) Xerxes, the fat labrador. 4) Atticus Finch opens an old-timey ice cream parlor. 5) the contents of Hillary Mantel's pockets. 6) clippy's suggestions on editing posts . 7) bangers and mash, in northern Bengal. 8) You have been raised up from Brutality, to kill the Brutals who multiply, and are legion.  9) Cyrano de nergerac' s thoughts on cornial transplants. 10) condiments and their application as approximation of bodily fluids. 11) Diet Gerchfuzzle (tootberry and kofflebottor) 12) the impracticality of it all... Caution: You are approaching the periphery shield of Vortex Four.
JREvans
10 reads

Condiment Man

He awoke as he did every day: cursing the gods for the most useless superpower of all time. He slipped out of bed quietly, so as not to disturb his wife, made his way into the bathroom, and turned on the shower. As it warmed, he noticed in the mirror that a large pimple was growing on his nose. With some concentration he positioned the head between his index fingers and squeezed them together. He could feel the pressure release and a spurt of mustard painted his mirror. He let out a sigh and stepped into the shower.

Midway through shampooing, he realized that he had forgotten to urinate. He aimed towards the drain and out came a steady stream of lemon vinaigrette. His wife would not be happy about that, he thought.

After showering he lathered his face up with shaving cream and began gliding the razor across his cheeks. Rushing through the process, he slipped and a small cut formed across his neck. Ketchup welled up from the wound which he quickly wiped away.

It was summertime and the trees were blooming. This meant his allergies were at an all time high. He grabbed a tissue and blew his nose, emptying the thick honey mustard that clogged his nasal cavities. Discarding the tissue he returned to the bedroom to get dressed.

His wife was now awake and motioned for him to get in bed. She was always good at making him feel better, at least for a while. Things were heating up and he reached for the Costco pack of Trojans that he kept on the nightstand...

Some time later, he was buttoning up his shirt, lost in thought and gazing at the discarded, mayonnaise-filled rubber at the bottom of the trash bin. Suddenly his wife rushed into the room urging him to turn on the television.

Scenes of chaos met his eyes as the news anchors showed clip after clip of towns being destroyed by aliens.

"This just in! A species of semi intelligent creatures has invaded earth! They have dropped a giant hot dog on New York City and millions are dead. Their only demands are that we humans provide condiments for this wondrous wiener. Due to the global food shortage, we do not have enough to supply them. They are unleashing their anger upon us. We fear that this could lead to the extinction of the human race if something is not done soon."

Condiment man's eyes widened and he began to smile. It was his time to shine.

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