Loading
text main 12 note 1
I seriously can't believe that Per, the old baldy, ended up choking to death on his own bread. The stench from the crumbs lodged in his throat was enough to make you vomit.
He loved showing off. Every morning he'd stand there in that stinky ditch and show off that big ol' grin with his mouthful of gold tooth to attract the customers. I swear, it'd make my own teeth itch with envy.
Per would always scrub his bread cabinet squeaky-clean every day, and he'd boast about his loaves every time he met someone. He'd often shove a couple slices my way in exchange for some words of praise about how great it was that his fortune was 'trickling down,' but I knew that he didn't want me to disgust his customers by standing in front of the store.
But ever since the devils started frequenting Norport, his business gradually became harder to run. Even his precious gold tooth disappeared, leaving an empty hole behind to complement his bald head. Yes, complement. That's the word Per taught me.
He told me that his gold tooth had been taken by those bread-snatching bastards. But, that gave me some relief, at least knowing that there was some karmic justice in our rich friends getting the short end of the stick.
Right when Norport Borough was driven away, I warned Per to lock his doors and hide. But instead of listening, he even mocked me, saying that the reason I never made any money in life was because I was too lily-livered. But now, the lily-livered one is still alive.
That day, I hid in a nearby block waiting to start my work, praying that nothing would happen to the ol' baldy. But even in the end, I never heard his voice. I thought he managed to make it out, but never imagined that even his dead body would get mutilated beyond belief by those bread-snatching madmen.
When I helped tidy up his body, I discovered a small piece of bread lodged in his throat, in which the missing gold tooth was hidden.
No wonder why I didn't hear his voice that whole time. Alas, even this greedy old baldy wanted to cling to his precious treasure before he died.
I'm sad that an old friend is dead, but what really kills me is that he made a cheap fake into his treasure!
Per's not such a bad man. From the bottom of my heart, I swear I was quite fond of the ol' baldy, but he was simply too much of a money-grubber. But then again, who isn't?
