Just when Mummy had promised us that we could use her
writing box regularly to resume our writing career, it got sick. We have very good doctors who always make us
feel better but writing boxes don’t seem to have that luxury. I was listening while she spoke with a
writing box doctor at a place called Microsoft.
He said his name was Phil.
Phil told Mummy he could make the writing box better, but he
would need access to his brain. Mummy
sat and drank her brown breakfast liquid with frothy cow juice while we watched
the little pointy triangle move around the screen and lots of boxes open and
close. One was black with lots of white
letters and symbols in it. Mummy got worried. She hoped Phil knew what he was doing,
because he was really diving deep into the little guy’s brain.
Suddenly all the boxes closed, and Phil told Mummy the writing
box was all better again. Well, that didn’t
last long. He started getting sicker and
within a day, he couldn’t help any of us write anymore. Mummy decided that it was time for her to take
over his care and nurse him back to health.
The surgery and recovery took Mummy almost two weeks, she growled a lot
and used a lot of very bad words. She’s
very attached to her writing box and this was obviously very emotionally
distressing for her.
I’m pleased to report that the writing box now has a clean
bill of health, so our writing can now resume.
Needless to say, Mummy says she will not be using the worthless “help”
of F*!?%&G Microsoft anytime
soon.
Talisker
