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| Some Sexy Porridge (Photo credit: Wikipedia) |
Keith stirred his porridge idly, his eyes gazing across his paper carelessly as he digested oats and news. In time, Keith finished his breakfast, neatly folding up the newspaper and carrying the bowl to the sink. A relatively tidy, if somewhat lazy man, Keith noticed he had left the package of porridge oats sitting half open besides the sink.
“Ooh”. Said the oats suggestively.
Keith paused. He scrunched up his eyebrows and flexed his eyes while he contemplated the package. Obviously, the oats hadn’t just sighed in pleasure. Keith hadn’t gotten much sleep last night and that, he decided, was the problem. Just his mind playing tricks on him. Looking around for the clip he used to keep the porridge packet closed, Keith brushed past the foodstuff.
“Yea! Yeaaaa”. The Porridge moaned.
Keith checked his watch. 10 minutes until he had to leave for work. Picking up the bag of oats, he headed towards his bedroom. Then, he turned off into the bathroom. After he’d strangled the oats, he cut off their head, hands and feet to prevent anyone identifying them, scribbling over the brand name and barcode on the packaging. Then, he dug a hole in his back yard, pouring the oats into the whole, and filling it with topsoil. Quickly, with the poise and speed of a seasoned expert, Keith cleaned up the kitchen, hiding any evidence the porridge had ever been there. That done, he fixed his face into a practised smile and headed to work.
“Ooh”. Said the oats suggestively.
Keith paused. He scrunched up his eyebrows and flexed his eyes while he contemplated the package. Obviously, the oats hadn’t just sighed in pleasure. Keith hadn’t gotten much sleep last night and that, he decided, was the problem. Just his mind playing tricks on him. Looking around for the clip he used to keep the porridge packet closed, Keith brushed past the foodstuff.
“Yea! Yeaaaa”. The Porridge moaned.
Keith checked his watch. 10 minutes until he had to leave for work. Picking up the bag of oats, he headed towards his bedroom. Then, he turned off into the bathroom. After he’d strangled the oats, he cut off their head, hands and feet to prevent anyone identifying them, scribbling over the brand name and barcode on the packaging. Then, he dug a hole in his back yard, pouring the oats into the whole, and filling it with topsoil. Quickly, with the poise and speed of a seasoned expert, Keith cleaned up the kitchen, hiding any evidence the porridge had ever been there. That done, he fixed his face into a practised smile and headed to work.
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