I’ll give you five hundred dollars for that slice of bread
Yesterday, I had a really, really bad day at the Bank of No Forks. Between being on a diet that does not include my beloved cake, and a very rough manager’s conference call late in the day, I just wanted to go home, put on my sweats and read while drinking a nice cup of tea.
Ed was busy rushing around doing chores and getting ready to go back to the school to pick up the boy who lives at our house. The girl who lives at our house decided she was going along for the ride. Truthfully, I wasn’t that upset to be left home alone.
That came to a grinding halt with the following:
Ed – “Remember how I helped Ethel (our neighbor, just so you know) with her emergency yesterday?”
Me – “Yes.” (That was actually a lie; I didn’t remember that at all.)
Ed – “She’s going to stop by with a loaf of homemade bread.”
Me – “Why? Is she tired of living?”
Ed ignored that and rushed out to get his kid.
Minutes later the doorbell rang. I had to drag myself out of seven layers of blankets (it’s been freezing here in the desert, just so you know), put down my book and cup of tea and then dislodge the cat to answer it. It took so long I was hopeful that she’d take her bread and leave.
No such luck.
I opened the door and there she stood, clutching her loaf of evil.
Me – SNARL
Edith – Hi! (All happy.) Ed helped me out yesterday and I told him I’d drop off one of my wonderful loaves of homemade bread that I’m famous for even though you can’t eat it because you’re on a NO carb diet.”
Maybe she didn’t really say that but that’s the story I’m sticking to for my trial.
Me – “Listen Ellen, can I call you Esther since we’ve never met? Anyway, I think it’s only fair for you to have an understanding of why you are about to die. I am on a NO carb diet and you are standing here on my porch with a loaf of hot homemade bread. If you are truthful with yourself, you’ll see it’s your own damn fault” ***Note from Amylynn – The Sisters firmly believe in telling people why we’re going to kill them, that way their last, dying thought will bring them truth.
With that, instead of saving herself and running off clutching her bread, she hurled it at me with all her might and escaped into the night.
Boy, I sure didn’t see her using that loaf as a weapon and me being alone in the house with hot bread calling my name . . . arrrrgggghhhhhhhhhhh!