Story Jam 1.7 Marv Throneberry and the Magpie Eggs

In the warm morning sun, a magpie ate breakfast, a distraught grasshopper being pulled limb from limb while still alive. I ran to the closet and got my gun, shot the magpie and made some eggs. They were magpie eggs -- small and Mississippi River brown -- but I hadn’t eaten in a fortnight. But as I started to dig into the eggs I was reminded of my recent stomach issue and how the phrase might be revised to “Brown Egg Quick Step.”

I threw down the fork and headed for the bathroom yelling, “Here’s another fine mess I’ll be leavin’ near your throne.”

The fork was truly revolting, covered with tiramisu and small globs of moss from the carpet, though the throne remained bejeweled and radiant. The being that sat on the throne was also moss-covered and wore the carpet as a toupee.

And so ends another second grade play in Montana!