Beyond The Pail

This is my first Sunday Photo Fiction in a while. thanks, as always, to Al for the photo. I’ve been struggling with block of late but a few ideas have started creeping through so hopefully, I’ll be ready for Nanowrimo even if I never get round to finishing that anthology of short stories I’ve been putting off for months.

-It’s cold, Roland.
-Got to be, hasn’t it?…Food hygiene and that.
-But I’ve only got me Speedoes on.
-‘Long as you keep it that way, we’ll be fine, Quince.
-What is it we’re doing again?
-We’re making butter, Quincy.
-But Roland…?
-Yeah?
-Why?
-Have you seen the prices at the supermarket? It’s diabolical.
-What about Aldi?
-Don’t like having to bring me own plastic bags, do I?
-So, how’s it supposed to work?
-Well it’s like that story about the frogs.
-What story?
-You know the one. 2 frogs get stuck in a vat of milk.
-Poor sods.
-I know. And the first one just thinks stuff it, lets nature take its course. Ends up drowning in six pints of the white stuff.
-You wouldn’t catch me doing that.
-How come?
-Lactose intolerant, aren’t I?
-Right…So the second one sees his mate go under and decides he’s going to let the same thing happen to him.
-What does he do?
-He flaps around, trying to get out of the bucket. At first nothing happens, but after a while, he finds it’s getting harder to move. He looks down, sees the milks turn to butter, so he hops away and Bob’s your uncle.
-So what are we suppose to do?
-Just jig around in this milk.
-And?
-And eventually, we’ll have a couple of wheelie bins full of butter.
-Great…Except.
-Except what?
-The story wasn’t about frogs.
-It was, Quince.
-Nah.
-Nah?
-It was about flies.
-Rubbish. You wouldn’t want flies around butter. It’s not hygienic.
-But a frog would just swim, Roland.
-…
-You’re getting it mixed up.
-With what?
-With the other story.
-Other story?
-About the frog who falls a pan of hot water and hops straight out. His mate falls into a pan which is just slowly getting warmer. He doesn’t notice till it’s too late.
-What happens?
-Poached frog.
-But Quince?
-Yeah, Roland?
-who’d want to kill a frog?
-I dunno..Maybe someone got sick of frogs hanging out in his kitchen.
-Fair dos.
-Hang on a minute.
-What?
-Isn’t this milk getting warmer?
-Nah mate, you’re imagining things. Your wife says Hi, by the way.