Your Fly is down

It has been many a month since Little Goodrip has last been seen. Sources indicate after being trapped in an infinite void of horror and despair inside a fat man's belly button, It has finally returned home, to finish off those waffles it laid out to dry before It left home that morning. This is It's story.

"Hello. My little scrumpy one." Little Goodrip beamed at its long lost food of choice. "I've missed you. Ever so dearly."

The waffle stared blankly at Little Goodrip. Almost as if it didn't recognise It any more. This brought a tear to Little Goodrip's left ear hole.

"You don't... Remember me?" It was trembling for words. "After all we've been through? You chose to forget me?"

The waffle, being an ignorant fellow, chose to ignore It. By drooping to the side a bit.

"Oh. I see how it is. You found someone else, didn't you?" Little Goodrip took a long sigh as It watched an old Fly make out with the Waffle. It's Saliva dripping everywhere.

"Sqwuuk sqlluech sqwua.." Quoted the Fly very redundantly.

"Why did you do this to me, friend!? WHY!?" Little Goodrip tried to refrain from heading into hysterics. "You know.. If you were a frog. I would of named you, 'Spotty'."

The Waffle had enough to hear of Little Goodrip's pedantics. It fell off the clothesline. The crusty mold which formed beneath it shattered away, and it fell into some blobby custard.

But Little Goodrip had lost interest by now. 

It went back inside. 

As a reasonably damp hurricane swept Little Goodrip away.