Disposed of…

24 09 2008

Apparently I'm not worth recycling...

So it wasn’t long before I had to devise a cunning plan to avoid a perpetitude of eating chocolate.  It was clear that this wasn’t going to be easy, for Matron is indeed a matron of almost godly powers and revered above most matrons that I know of.  And I know two matrons.  There’s Matron and then there’s Matron.  I think there’s a bit of rivalry between the two, since Matron dresses exactly the same as Matron – not wishing to be outdone, I would imagine.  And then there’s the way they style their hair the same and the way their noses are the same too.  Matron even sounds exactly like Matron.  It must be hard to have someone spend so much effort and intent on trying to attain the standards that Matron sets.  But somehow Matron always seems to be able to raise the bar and show Matron how much of a pale imitation she really is.

So if I was to stand a chance of escaping my predicament, I’d have to maybe catch the imitation matron out whilst Matron is doing something else.  This could prove tricky as they always seem to be around at roughly the same time.

My plan was as simple as it was devious.  I would pretend to eat seven chocolate bars of various types and sizes, and then, behind my back, I’d construct them into a life-size model of Michael Jackson.  With a little ventriloquist magic, and knowing that Matron truly adores every pore of Michael, I’d lure Matron into the promise of a lusty night with my chocolaty effigy.  Whilst distracted I would whisk myself away from this chocolaty hell and begin a new a life of freedom in cell 29f.

This was surely the bestest plan I’d ever concocted, so when I found myself minutes later unceremoniously stuffed into a waste paper bin, I have to admit to being a little surprised that things could unravel quite so quickly. 

It was all a bit of a blur really.  The chocolate effigy making went well I thought.  OK so, maybe it was a little smaller than I was hoping, and yes, I think trying to pose mid-moonwalk was a little optimistic, but my rendition of “It doesn’t matter if you’re black or white” was faultless.  But… somehow Matron clearly saw through it.

And then it hit me.

Dark chocolate.  Why did I use dark chocolate?

*sobs*

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