A crappy little joke match...

[CanisMax]

I was eating dinner last night and this popped into my head.

***

 

The table was set. Plates, silverware, napkins, everything in place. To some it looked like someone preparing for breakfast, to our two combatants today, it looked like war.

 

The Pillsbury Doughboy stood at one end of the table staring down Mrs. Butterworth with a furious gaze. The stoic syrup-bottle-woman silently responded by flipping the bird to the pudgy little pile of dough. Enraged, partly at the obscene gesture and partly at the fact that he had no fingers, he grabbed a butter knife and charged toward her. Butterworth stood silently, suddenly blocking the attack with a fork. The Doughboy swung his weapon again, but Butterworth parried, stunning the chubby champion. She reached her weapon into the bowl of scrambled eggs and flung one at the Doughboy's head.

 

"Come on, fatty," she taunted, "I haven't got all day." Enraged, the Doughboy swung his weapon again. Butterworth blocked and thrust hers towards the Doughboy's belly. He just chuckled as the fork's prongs bounced off.

 

The two kept fighting. The Smith family stood, backs pressed up the wall, staring, aghast at what was happening.

 

Only one could be the champion of breakfast. Who will it be?

[Schnee Corp Lawyer]

Mr. Pillsbury's soft, he won't do what he has to to win. viva la butterworth