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A Ballad of Mr Snufflekins: The day the toaster broke.

March 14, 2012

The toaster was the centre of his universe. His whole world. His everything. The shiny rectangular thing that turned everyday bread into crispy, warmer bread filled his days with joy (and carbohydrates). Until, one day, the toaster was murdered, and everything changed.

Let me tell you a story…

Mr. Snufflekins had just arrived from the pet store. A dapper looking young rat, Mr. Snufflekins strode carefree about his new home, admiring things. He admired the sofa, he admired the goldfish, he admired his reflection in the mirror. BUT WAIT! No. It was a toaster, not a mirror.

As the years drifted lazily by, Mr. Snufflekins grew increasingly fond of the toaster. It was more than a mirror and a bread hardening machine, it was a friend. A friend that didn’t talk or go anywhere. A friend he could trust.

Then the cat arrived. That damn cat. The family named the cat “Lovely Face”. His face was anything but lovely, and his name was shit. When he arrived, instead of admiring things, he waltzed around the place looking down his nose at everything. He looked down his nose at the sofa, he looked down his nose at the goldfish, but worst of all, he looked down his nose at the toaster.

Mr. Snufflekins hated Lovely Face, so he told him.

“Oi! Lovely Face! I hate you!”

“I’ll get you for this insult, Mr. Snufflekins! And your little toaster, too!” Lovely Face sneered, and ambled away.

Mr. Snufflekins was worried that he had gone too far, but he felt that someone should stand up to Lovely Face. Someone should bring him down a peg or two. So Mr. Snufflekins closed his eyes next to his toaster friend, and sleep took him.

The next morning, the toaster was dead. It lay in pieces on the floor, springs and crumbs strewn about across the kitchen.

Mr. Snufflekins was distraught. Tears welled in his eyes as he dashed about trying to find all of the toaster’s parts.

“Morning.” Lovely Face smiled, like the dickhead that he was.

Rage. It was all Mr. Snufflekins felt. It tore through his mind like a chainsaw tied to a tractor. He leapt on Lovely Face, screaming, crying, punching.

The fight was terrible, until Lovely Face started crying, and Mr. Snufflekins relented.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please stop kicking the crap out of me!” Lovely Face sniffed.

“You murdered my friend! Your face isn’t lovely at all! It’s horrible! Like your twisted heart!” Mr. Snufflekins was very upset.

At that, something inside Lovely Face’s heart did indeed twist, and he felt extremely guilty. Now he cried tears not of pain, but of remorse.

“I’m sorry. I can help you rebuild him. I have a BSc in engineering.”

So they rebuilt the toaster, and it was as good as new.

Over time, they both discovered that they actually had a lot in common, not to mention a love of toast! They became great friends, and released an LP of middling quality entitled “Toast is Proper Good.”

Thanks to our competition winner, Dan, for the title! Excellent work! You now have the prize of the respect of your peers, and yourself. To all the runners up: thanks for entering (no respect for you, better luck next time). Thanks to Amy for sending in the image (still don’t know where it’s from, sorry, person who did the image).

See you next time, at Animal on Animal!

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One comment

  1. haha Brilliant, my fave bit is “They became great friends, and released an LP of middling quality entitled “Toast is Proper Good.” genius 🙂



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