(no subject)
Brett walked down the cobblestone street, two scantily clad, pretty girls on each arm. He guffawed; they twittered, it was, all in all, a good time. They stroked his chest and fluttered their eyes at him, and pouted their lips when his manly gaze broke away. Brett was obviously a dashing man. And then his demise wheeled up the street.
A cart selling scones, pushed by an elderly man named Horis. "Scones!" he called, wavering one about in his shakey hand, "Scones fer sale!" The girls about Brett shrieked with delight, and tore away from his muscular build like Japanese businessmen from Godzilla. They flocked the cart, stroking the old man's white hair and kissing him on the cheek.
Brett watched as Horis left, two scantily clad, pretty girls under each side of the red and white parasol above his cart. "Scones," muttered Brett clentching his fists, "Left for scones...Again."
A cart selling scones, pushed by an elderly man named Horis. "Scones!" he called, wavering one about in his shakey hand, "Scones fer sale!" The girls about Brett shrieked with delight, and tore away from his muscular build like Japanese businessmen from Godzilla. They flocked the cart, stroking the old man's white hair and kissing him on the cheek.
Brett watched as Horis left, two scantily clad, pretty girls under each side of the red and white parasol above his cart. "Scones," muttered Brett clentching his fists, "Left for scones...Again."