Ffestive Ffinch, by Barney MacFarlane

(F.F.F. Website Story)

Ffinch was a disordered chap. He’d received a slow cooker as a Christmas gift from his sister the year before and decided to cook this year’s turkey in it. But now his confused state took over as the clock ticked: his sis and her brood would arrive in under an hour. Ffinch whined at the slow cooker, “I wish you would hurry up.”

He was that sort of guy – he’d put his hand in front of his face and see his foot. At the surgery he’d greet the doc, ‘How are you?’

Tell you what, Ffinch would fail his metaphysical.

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