Mid-crowbar on a pot of unthawed ice cream, I was baffled to find its rock-hard contents suddenly disappear without trace.
Seriously considering whether I'd blacked out for a few minutes, I paced the house in desperation, expecting to find a plate of pudding that my forgotten self had prepared minutes earlier.
Nothing.
Increasingly concerned, I returned to the kitchen, whereupon the ice cream - still perfectly mini-bucket shaped - noisily re-materialised on the worktop, showering me in plasma-like residue with the force of its dimensional reentry.
Staggering backwards I looked up, and noticed a smear of ice cream on the ceiling, where the entire chunk had somehow clung for several minutes before crashing back to earth, into an oven dish of congealing fat left over from a mains of ribs and chips.
Ah Voilà
No comments:
Post a Comment