Drinks, Dunks and Sticks

by Caroline

Duncan is a rock. Well, he seems like a rock; but when you get to know him, you may decide he's a rock-shaped lump of Blutack.

Every day he puts the kettle on for a cup of tea, as soon as he can stumble to the kitchen, bumping into the walls on the way, bouncing down the stairs and getting sticky tape stuck to his socks. Cup of tea on the table, packet of biscuits - then he wedges himself into the kitchen chair. There's only one chair, because it was expensive, and the only one left in the sale. It's a bucket chair.

Duncan drinks and dunks his way through a whole packet of biscuits, then is called by nature to move. At this point he realises that his back side is hermetically sealed to the chair.
He tries to stand up. Difficult, in the circumstances. he thinks about Pooh. he thinks about poo. He puts poo out of his mind and thinks about Pooh again. Stuck in a hole for a whole week, with nothing to eat.

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