He wandered the jungles, in the fashion typical of a
jungle wanderer, which, coincidently, he was.
He was a hunter.
He was a legend.
He was a legend, partly because not many met him
twice, thus lending a sense of mystery to his person. He was also mysterious
because he never told anyone his name.
(His name was Glenda, so you can see why.)
But he was mostly a legend because he hunted the
most dangerous of all the jungle animals.
Bread and feral vegetables.
Hunting bread is an ordeal that not many put
themselves through.
Bread in its
wild form, is an aggressive dough. It attacks with the gusto and ferocity of
several Goan men on Easter breaking their Lenten fast. Bread is lightening
fast, flexible, highly intelligent, and has been known to swallow some animals
whole.
Glenda had developed a unique technique for hunting
bread, one that resulted in a tasty exotic meal.
He would bait the bread with a flock of chickens.
Bread, it is widely known, has an affinity for
chicken.
What is not known is that after swallowing a chicken
whole, bread becomes stuffed, and less quick and flexible, much like post
Easter feast Goan men.
Thus the bread becomes easy to catch and, if cooked
quickly enough, can be cracked open to reveal a wonderfully delicious chicken,
that has stewed in the bread stomach juices.
Feral vegetables
on the other hand are far more violent and take to attacking men due to their
ongoing existential crises. Banished into the jungle, feral vegetables have
devolved into uncivilised creatures, living troubled underground lives.
Glenda developed a technique of capturing these
vegetables that involved the complex use of several different baits such as pork,
which feral vegetables love, philosophy, therapeutic techniques, and obscene
pictures of drunken fruit.
Yet there was one jungle creature that even he had
difficulty hunting. This creature came into being when bread and feral
vegetables merged together, in some very unusual jungle mating process, to form
that most devious of all deviousness- The pizza.
The pizza, though far tastier than its predecessors,
had the most dangerous qualities of both, and some had even developed a taste
for beef. These are the ones that would hunt in packs.
Stealthy
creatures, the pizzas would creep up behind an unsuspecting cow. The leader of
the pack would attack, quickly sinking it’s dough into the poor cow’s neck and
killing it in one swift bite while the others would tear it to shreds with
their sharp cheese.
Glenda was on the trail of a pizza that had been
terrorizing a nearby village.
He tracked the pizza carefully through the
undergrowth. It was easy to do this once he had found the trail. He just had to
look out for the toppings.
“Hmmm” he thought to himself, as he tasted one,
“Still warm. I’m getting closer”
Soon he came upon a clearing and spied the pizza
heading towards a cave. It was a large one, of the serves 6 variety.
The pizza, not the cave.
Quickly he threw his spear and straight through the
heart of the pizza. Gasping and choking it fell to the ground. Slowly tomato
sauce spread across its torso and stained the grass red.
Suddenly he heard a commotion from the cave. Six
other pizzas came out of the cave and ran towards the first.
They were much smaller personal sized pizzas. They
gathered around the larger one.
“Nahiiii! MAAA!” They screamed in grief, although in
an untranslatable pizza language.
They saw him standing there and advanced on him
quickly, revenge in their beady little olives.
Recognizing the danger he was in, he fled quickly,
and managed a narrow escape.
A few minutes later he was killed by a group of very
angry, very obscene, drunk fruit.
