He'd had a bad day and just needed something to make him feel better, and nothing made Squimick feel better than a roasted haggis on rye bread. It was unusual to say the least; even the other Scotsmen ate portions of haggis with their bread, not an entire haggis between two slices. That's the way Squimick liked it, and since he had a bad day, that's what he chose to eat from dinner.
The reason he had a bad day was he was bagpiping to work and tripped on a sheep in the middle of the road. Now that wasn't an uncommon occurrence, but when he tripped, he snapped his blow stick in twine. He'd worked hard to afford that blow stick, and it seemed like he wouldn't be able to afford a new one for a while.
But what really boiled his potatoes was after he fell in snapped his blow stick, the sheep bleated and sat on his head. This was a pregnant ewe too, so getting it off of his head wasn't an easy feat. He had to take his broken blow stick and flail it up behind him, in attempt to whack the ewe in the face so it'd sit up.
When he finally managed to whack the ewe in the face, it was so perturbed by the occurrence that it kicked the bag of the bagpipe and tore a big hole in it. Squimick sat there upset, about his bagpipe, and when he thought things couldn't get worse, a car drove by and splashed a nearby puddle all over him.
That's when he decided he'd had enough that day and walked home, tuneless.
One day he'll afford a new bagpipe, but for now the only thing that mattered was his haggis on rye sandwich. When he took his first bite, his joy plummeted as he realized he forgot to turn on the oven when he was cooking the delicacy. He was chewing on a lukewarm, uncooked haggis, and his day in fact could not get worse.
He heard a familiar bleat from the window. He looked over and saw the ewe from earlier. It seemed interested in the lukewarm, uncooked haggis. Squimick took the sandwich, stood up, walked over and tossed it out the window. The ewe pranced over to it and nibbled at it voraciously.
When it had finished eating the haggis, it bounced away happily. Squimick watched it depart and then turned to go to bed. Before he made it across the kitchen, though, he heard a nasally wheezing sounding from up the street. Squimick turned back and saw the ewe coming up the street with a brand-new bagpipe in its mouth. It trotted up to the window and dropped it through onto the floor, where it landed with a highland honk.
Squimick was thrilled when he picked it up that he couldn't help but play it right there. He harnessed it up and gave it a tremendous blow. Maybe this wasn't such a bad day after all.
The reason he had a bad day was he was bagpiping to work and tripped on a sheep in the middle of the road. Now that wasn't an uncommon occurrence, but when he tripped, he snapped his blow stick in twine. He'd worked hard to afford that blow stick, and it seemed like he wouldn't be able to afford a new one for a while.
But what really boiled his potatoes was after he fell in snapped his blow stick, the sheep bleated and sat on his head. This was a pregnant ewe too, so getting it off of his head wasn't an easy feat. He had to take his broken blow stick and flail it up behind him, in attempt to whack the ewe in the face so it'd sit up.
When he finally managed to whack the ewe in the face, it was so perturbed by the occurrence that it kicked the bag of the bagpipe and tore a big hole in it. Squimick sat there upset, about his bagpipe, and when he thought things couldn't get worse, a car drove by and splashed a nearby puddle all over him.
That's when he decided he'd had enough that day and walked home, tuneless.
One day he'll afford a new bagpipe, but for now the only thing that mattered was his haggis on rye sandwich. When he took his first bite, his joy plummeted as he realized he forgot to turn on the oven when he was cooking the delicacy. He was chewing on a lukewarm, uncooked haggis, and his day in fact could not get worse.
He heard a familiar bleat from the window. He looked over and saw the ewe from earlier. It seemed interested in the lukewarm, uncooked haggis. Squimick took the sandwich, stood up, walked over and tossed it out the window. The ewe pranced over to it and nibbled at it voraciously.
When it had finished eating the haggis, it bounced away happily. Squimick watched it depart and then turned to go to bed. Before he made it across the kitchen, though, he heard a nasally wheezing sounding from up the street. Squimick turned back and saw the ewe coming up the street with a brand-new bagpipe in its mouth. It trotted up to the window and dropped it through onto the floor, where it landed with a highland honk.
Squimick was thrilled when he picked it up that he couldn't help but play it right there. He harnessed it up and gave it a tremendous blow. Maybe this wasn't such a bad day after all.
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