The Piper In The Paddy

The sounds of the bagpipe erupted from the rice paddy, for the third morning in a row. Helmut cursed as he popped the tab on a beer can in a futile attempt to quell his hangover with "hair of the dog". And the creeling strains of whatever classic highlands ballad weren't helping.

Helmut's father had possessed a record of "Classic Highlands Ballads", and subjected Helmut to it an unconscionable number of times as a youngster. He drained the can, opened the door, and lobbed it towards the form he could see dimly in the paddy.

A freak gust of wind lofted the can high into the air, and brought it down with uncanny accuracy on the piper's head. The music ended with a squawk of pain and a splash.

"Ten points," Helmut muttered, going to mark his score on the fridge.

Based on the words: Tab Beer Rice Bagpipe

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The Den of Ubiquity/ Aaron V. Humphrey / alfvaen@gmail.com