Once upon a time there was a lovely little sausage called Baldrick.
And it lived happily ever after.
I'm going to continue this.
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Once upon a time there was a lovely little sausage called Baldrick. And he lived happily ever after.
Or did he?
Baldrick was abandoned as a child by his parents, both of whom were Dutch. They worked on a farm, producing a certain type of green plant that many of the natives used to smoke for recreational purpose. This took up so much of their time that Baldrick was forgotten about, not only due to the fact that, unlike his siblings, differed in the sense that he was a sausage and not human.
Baldrick only had his own company which he enjoyed, however he longed for a friend, another sausage companion if you like.
He left home at a young age of 7 and went to explore Europe, travelling amongst baguettes, wraps and frozen BBQ food.
It was one hot summer's day that Baldrick realised what his destiny was. He had arrived in Brighton, England, and saw many other sausages such as himself. However some of them differed slightly. There were many that were much like himself in terms of appearance and taste, however there were others that only came out at night...
Baldrick knew that the other sausages like himself were destined for death, for consumption by humans. The hot summer's day saw many sausages being consumed on disposable BBQ's on Brighton beach, often accompanied by a variety of alcoholic drinks. Baldrick had experienced some alcoholic beverages before at a drinking establishment in Berlin one cold October and did not want to repeat this ever. He was very ill that night.
Sausages were being consumed like no tomorrow. Some were in baps, some in baguettes and some just on their own. Baldrick had to act fast in order to survive, in order to avoid consumption. He darted from stone to stone on Brighton's rocky beach, dodging large podgy fingers from the intoxicated humans. But the inevitable lay just around the corner.
A gathering of seagulls had been watching Baldrick with intent and had been plotting. In an organised and controlled attack, Baldrick was circled from above, the circle was closing in and getting smaller and smaller. A sudden swoop from above and Baldrick was airbourne. He knew his fate, he had been marked for death. For consumption.
In what seemed to be eternity, Baldrick watched as his legs were torn from his sausage body. Next were his arms. His body was last, ripped in two by a fellow seagull.
Nobody heard his screams for help, however it is said that it can be heard when the wind blows in a certain direction today...
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