Transitional Exposure to Foreign Chemicals

Foam-eze. Dreaded chemical. It might be the codeine, but I think that getting foam-eze in the eye is the best thing that happened to me in a while. Sorry, let me reconstruct the incident.

I was using the shower-gun, or hose as others call it, and it EXPLODED. It literally erupted in a fountain of burning bubbles. I then proceded, with haste, to the sink where I could make use of the sink and eyewash. The interesting part in all this is that a customer -probably damaged by gonorrhoea and severely beaten many times as a child- laughed all the while.

A short exchange of words, evidently:

>"Hi, I'm looking for Skakerbashes. Ripe ones."
>"Well, you've come to the right place! Let's see here...ah yes, Skakerbashes: great melons of purple hue and delightful texture: aisle 3. Let me guide you."
>"Certainly. Oh, also; do you, perchance, have Woodland Mouyrs? They're wonderful this time of year. "
>"I believe so. Let's go and see, shall we?"

Balgerbough the clerk and Sir Foxsworthson procede through alleys and finally stumble on the grotesque produce section.

>"Ah! Splendid! This will assuredly please the missus! Now, for the Mouyrs, are there any?"
>"I'll ask my friend here. Slopfrop! Woodland Mouyrs: do we have any?"

Slopfrop groans as his corpulent body rises from a depressed pile of boxes. His face is a river of lard, punctuated by mounds of pus and acne scars.

>"Bah! Haven't seen those in ages! Ever since they cut the Woods east of Notmurshire, it's been a real pain finding them".
>"Oh, too bad. Sorry sir, none left".
>"Oh well, we'll do without".

Sir Foxsworthson leans over towards to Balgerbough and whispers

>"A little on the strong side, is he?"
>"I'm afraid so, ever since his pet hamster died of tyroïd cancer."

But suddenly Sir Foxworthson leans too far and falls! The Mouyr is crushed under his weight and a wrestling match unfolds as an enraged Balgerbough advances! What will happen next? Tune in next time on " A Short Exchange of Words"!