Saturday, 11 August 2007

The Pot and the Kettle

I wrote this about a hypocrite. He was accusing someone of distorting facts while doing the same thing himself.

Sorry for the bad prose and plot devices and so on, but this is what I came up with as my first 'Silliness' post.

Wildy Presents, A Wildy Production of Wildy's random idea:

The Pot And The Kettle

SCENE: An Old Style Kitchen.

*Enter Pot*

Pot: Look at me, I am a pot. I sit on the flames and grow pure white. But my purpose here is to insult the sink.

*Pot goes and insults a prop sink*

*Enter Kettle*

Kettle: I am a kettle. I can boil water while I sit on the flames. However I fear that I may one day run into the Pot, and be told that I am while he is not. He doesn't look at himself when he spews forth words, and fails to see he is similar.

Pot (not noticing Kettle): Haha I won. I beat the sink. I shall bask in my victory until my next victim.

Kettle (trying to hide away): Oh dear, oh dear, the Pot draws near.

Pot (notices Kettle): Brilliant. My next victim approaches, I shall defeat him with my perfect wit.

Kettle (sighing): Hello Pot.

Pot: Greetings, I am the Pot. The greatest and best coloured object the kitchen has ever seen. My colour is unmatched for you I see are completely black.

Kettle (annoyed): Considering that you are also a black object?

Pot (taken aback): BLACK?!?!? ME!?!?! NEVER?!?!?! Look at how pure and white I am, how dare you call me black.

Kettle: You aren't white for you fail to see that you, yourself are as black as me. The two of us, look quite the same for we have been darkened by the flame.

Pot: Why I never. I think I will go back to arguing with the sink.

Kettle (feeling somewhat triumphant): You do that yet you will fail to see that you sir stink of hypocrisy. You do not accept that you are black, and run away from that fact.

*Exeunt Pot*

Kettle: And after that small encounter you see, the pot returning to hypocrisy. He will not change although challenged, of the face of his character. He will remain and fight the sink, in circles like the water draining from it. And as he fights he goes nowhere, because he treads the same path with care. For each encounter he will face he will just stand there in his grace and close his ears to any rebuttal while his argument falls and creates a clutter upon the world of discussion but will be rebuilt without a flutter. And become and argument that will be loathed to mutter.

*Exeunt Kettle*

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