Thursday, 15 July 2010

Max is out of the closet.

Purely in a literal sense. His sexuality is not a matter I wish to consider. Anyhow, I've taken to asking him about his week. He keeps mumbling and shaking, huddling himself into a little ball in the corner. I gather that his time away on other blogs did not go well, and I blame Ben.
 "Why were you late back then?"
He looked at me, big puppydog eyes wide and big like the eyes of a puppydog:
 "Tried to leave. Had to run away, so I went to sea..."
He started to sob again.
 "What?... What happened?"
 "Came ashore, we all went to the pub. Drank a little to much, and passed out. I got press-ganged!"
 "What? Onto another ship?"
 "No!" He went on, "Into the fruit and veg trade!"
Max talked long into the night, his story punctuated only by sobs and explosive vomiting. I gathered, at last, that he had awoken to find himself chained to a stall in the East End of London. There, he was forced to fake an accent, and sell fruit and veg in the persona of a lovable cockney rogue. Understandably, the experience had been rather traumatic on poor Max.
 However, it isn't all bad. His experience seems to have gained him a new job, cameoing on Eastenders. I think he's going to play a carrot.


Homemaker Man said...

Shh, now Max. It'll be ok. Have some salad.

Paul Blanchard said...

That was some quick commenting... Are you watching my home?
Spread the word! Fruit and Veg are evil! Reduced Max to a gibbering, illogical wreck. And he used to be a God amongst men...

Todd X. said...

That drawing is amazing. Did you study art?

Ben Tyson said...

What did I do? Is it because I failed to prevent Steve from sexually assaulting him? I tried, dammit, but he just beat me aside with his massive head!

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