A tale of two bastards.

April 8, 2010

Once, there was a cat called Manchester United, and a dog called Chelsea Football Club. They lived in the suburbs of Paris during the 1980s and drank wine almost continuously while chatting about their long and exciting lives.

Manchester United used to be a hunter. He told tales of his trips to Africa, recalling jumping out of bushes and shooting things, and then putting heads on his mantle, which Chelsea Football Club thought was a bit macabre for his tastes.

Chelsea Football Club liked to talk about his flower arranging business empire, and his playboy lifestyle. He crowed about the countless ladies that he had kissed on the mouth. Manchester United was upset by this, because he had only ever kissed two ladies on the mouth.

The two of them would talk for hours, get very drunk and fall asleep on one another like this:

Neither of them liked each other, really, but they didn’t have any other friends, because they were both complete bastards.

Thanks to Pete for finding it, and Winblog for having it on the internet in the first place.


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