Once upon a time, there lived a man. A simple man who lived in a simple house. He was unsure of what clothes people would wear, so he always stuck to a matching Adidas tracksuit, a simple cap, and his prized possession handed down from father to son for umpteen generations- a gold-leafed knight chess piece necklace. He wore them and looked in the mirror, and he saw that it was good. Then he realised he had little money with which to live by, so he went out and got a job at the local meatball factory. He got paid in currency and meatball for his work. He saw his payment and that it was good also.
And then came the dark days. The market crashed and so did the price of meatballs. The meatball manager called all his employees and said “We are nigh finished, thusly we must make many a changes. May all the stars in the heavens forgive me, but I must let you all go. Go free, and prosper”. And so they did go free, but not all prospered. The Meatball Man went and saw that it was not good indeed.
One day the Meatball Man was feeling hungry. He looked around the room for inspiration. There was an armchair, red. There were drapes, maroon. There was a carpet, blue, with golden motes across it. There were seventeen fish flapping about on the floor. “Ah”, he thought. “Fish it is”. He could no longer bear to eat meatballs, or in fact, anything remotely spherical. As he lived in Cottingham, East Yorkshire, England, he had no access to the sea. How would he get fish if they were not in the sea? “Ah”, he thought once more, “I can exchange currency for fish”. And so off he went, leaving his house behind on a trek that would bring glory to the world.
So he trekked, across marshes and fording through rivers and climbing mountains until he came across what was labelled as a “petal state”. There were automobiles drinking water out of hoses and a squat building off to the side. A sign for Subway graced the entrance. Perfect. So he went inside, revealing a sizeable multi-purpose space with a Costa coffee machine, a hot dog machine, a shopping space, and a Subway counter. And so he lined up behind a tanned fellow in the line. Or so the legend goes.
To be Continued…