The Hunt

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.