Oct 18 2010


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“Here you go,” said Greg, sliding the plate just under Brigid’s drooping nose. She blinked at it as if trying to determine what planet it came from.

“What’s…?” she managed to say.

“Cinnamon raisin toast, with peanut butter,” said Greg. “The pantry’s a bit on the empty side, so I had to improvise. But this has got protein, carbs, and—”

“Raisins,” said Brigid.

“Yes, those too,” said Greg.

“I can’t eat bread with raisins in it. That’s just nasty.”

“What are you talking about? You eat raisins all the time.”

“Not in bread I don’t. The idea is revolting!”

Greg turned and gave her a look. “Seriously. You begged me to make you some breakfast, now you don’t want it because it has raisins in bread.”

“How could anybody of sound mind eat raisins in bread? What were the people who made this stuff thinking?” Brigid blinked painfully at the plate.

“Lots of people like cinnamon raisin bread!”

“No they don’t.”

“What!” said Greg.

“And if they do, they’re wrong.”

I like cinnamon raisin bread,” said Greg.

“No, you’re mistaken,” said Brigid.

Greg scowled. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“It’s morning,” said Brigid. “You of all people should know I don’t make sense in the morning.”

“Fine,” said Greg. “I’ll eat it, then. You can have the only other thing left in the pantry. Hope you like ‘Hamburger Helper’ without the hamburger.”

“Does it have raisins?”

“Uh … no.”

“Slice me off a piece.”

-The Gneech

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