Cheese Medley

Bill Bailey is standing next to me. He's angry, his hair is in a wild dissarray, his friendly chubby face scrunched into a goblin like glare of malice. He is pointing at the board, and he is not impressed, despite my reasonable score.

"You haven't even tried" he says. I square up to him, despite his intimidating 6ft 4 frame. I struggle to find words, a suitable excuse. All that rolls through my mind is that if it's so easy, why should I try? But I know this wont wash with Mr Bailey.

"I've done enough" I say with outward conviction, but inside I am shamed and I know how feeble this sounds. I instantly regret this move. There is some mental grappling between myself and Bill, perhaps we are meeting somewhere out there in the astral plane, but I refuse to defend myself as I know he is right.

I let him vent his anger, anger fuelled by my silent acquiescence. I vow to prove him wrong.

And then I wake up.

And that, my friends, is why it is a bad idea to mix cheese. You just don't know what the effects will be.

There was another part to this, but it escapes me at the moment.. Perhaps it will come back tonight. But I think that there is something to be learned from Bill's anger.

So unknown mixed cheese medley:

10/10

(plus a lot of booze of course, including mad dogs)