Again
"Pancakes again? We had them less than two weeks ago."
"We’re not having pancakes, we’re having pancake."
"So what’s the difference? Singular, plural, same thing. Just less of it."
"Honey, it’s not up to us. The choice is out of our hands."
"Why would they pick it again so soon? It’s not like there was much to do with them the first time around. Now we get them again?"
"At least this time we got them on a Sunday. Getting them ready before work on a Friday was even worse."
"I just don’t see how they could be so lazy."
Flat
There he was, flat as a pancake. Just like in a cartoon. I’d warned Donald several times about the roller’s bad brake, but I guessed he hadn’t got it fixed, judging by his current state.
But that got me wondering. Could it possibly have gotten enough speed on such a slight incline to run him down? Wouldn’t he hear it, get out of the way? I felt riduculous, standing over my one-dimensional foreman wondering about foul play. ‘Course, guy wasn’t too well liked on the crew, but nobody would do that. Right?
Well, I’d better get this cleaned up.
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