The Magic Sausage

A Short Story
by Random Writer

Dan Meadows looked at the magic sausage in his hands and felt stable.

He walked over to the window and reflected on his grey surroundings. He had always
loved wild Plymouth with its colorful, charming cliffs. It was a place that
encouraged his tendency to feel stable.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of
Barry Gloop. Barry was a bold teacher with wobbly eyes and curvaceous toenails.

Dan gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a cold-blooded, smart, beer
drinker with grubby eyes and wide toenails. His friends saw him as a vague, vacant
volcano. Once, he had even rescued a squashed owl from a burning building.

But not even a cold-blooded person who had once rescued a squashed owl from a
burning building, was prepared for what Barry had in store today.

The hail pounded like bouncing badgers, making Dan stressed.

As Dan stepped outside and Barry came closer, he could see the inexpensive glint in
his eye.

"I am here because I want Internet access," Barry bellowed, in a violent tone. He
slammed his fist against Dan's chest, with the force of 2076 mice. "I frigging love
you, Dan Meadows."

Dan looked back, even more stressed and still fingering the magic sausage. "Barry,
oh my God they killed Kenny," he replied.

They looked at each other with happy feelings, like two rich, red rats gyrating at
a very giving dinner party, which had R & B music playing in the background and two
predatory uncles sitting to the beat.

Dan regarded Barry's wobbly eyes and curvaceous toenails. He held out his hand.
"Let's not fight," he whispered, gently.

"Hmph," pondered Barry.

"Please?" begged Dan with puppy dog eyes.

Barry looked sleepy, his body blushing like a blue, boiling book.

Then Barry came inside for a nice drink of beer.

THE END q