h a l f b a k e r y
Like gliding backwards through porridge.
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There we sat, three of us, feet dangling over the
of the building, forty-eight floors above the street.
I selected a dart, filled it with whipped cream and hefted
in my hand. Its paper casing was packed full of dairy
goodness; its fins were straight and strong; the paper
cone was pointed and symmetrical... it was good to go.
I watched the flag on the building across the street,
waiting for a sign the wind was falling a little then I
launched it out at a slight downward angle, allowing
approximately eight car lengths. I wanted to hit the
in the BMW convertible that had pushed through a
pedestrian crossing, far below. This was fun!
The missile tipped over in its arc of flight and sped
downward, gathering velocity. SPLAT!
It had hit the top edge of the windscreen, spraying
over the front of the vehicle and the car's occupants.
I had another three darts in the air, each aimed slightly
front of the last... Mr Trustfund and his BMTroubleYou
were in for a frustrating afternoon.
Tomorrow I might fill one or two of them with pigeon
||(Has to pick jaw off the floor since they weren't filled
with custard). Hope you are a good aim. Would hate
to get whip creamed in the face as I am riding my
bicycle down the street.
||Everyone else would, however, laugh like drains.
||PS At last - a use for pigeons !
||Custard would hurt too much, [blissy].
||otherwise I can see no flaws, apart from the sitting on the edge of a 48 storey building part.
||There's no problem with sitting on the parapet of a
48-storey building. It's falling off that is the
problem... actually, even that isn't the problem. It's
how you land when you reach the bottom that's the
problem, if gravity is still on and working.