The Curious World of Mr. Egg Skews Me

It was in the midday heat akin to that of a summer's day, if indeed this tropical country was capable of the four seasons, that a budding writer began his endeavor of writing a story.

And as all fictional stories go, he ventured a signature introduction

"There was, in the land of Hatch, a town where eggs of all kinds lived. Brown eggs, white eggs, black eggs, mottled eggs with speckles of black all around their brown shells. Some were oval, some were round; some had a soft, jelly-like shell, some had hard shells. But they were all eggs anyway."

Every story needs a main character right? This story is no different.

"This story is about the life of a brown egg, who goes by the name of Mr. Egg Skews Me. Mr Egg loves to ask questions. He would go around the whole town asking different eggs all sorts of questions.

One day, as expected, he went on his way looking for some egg who would answer his question. Today, some great question seemed to bother him greatly. He hoped there was an answer to that question. He soon came to a field where many eggs were gathered together. 'It seems they're all listening to something.' he mused. 'Perhaps I may find my answer here.'

When he came closer, he realized they were not listening, but instead were looking at something. On a huge piece of paper were the words 'Hatch or Boil, that is the end.' He read it slowly, carefully. For it seemed to answer the question he had, the one that bothered him greatly. He turned to an egg that seemed equally deep in thought and did what he did best. 'Excuse me' he started, 'pardon me for asking, but do you know what this means?' The white egg eyed him curiously, then said, 'I think the better question to ask is, "do you know who wrote this?"

Mr. Egg realized that was true. Eggs, after all, could not write, for they didn't have hands. He was excited there was an egg that thought deeper than he did. 'Excuse me' he started again, 'pardon me for asking, but do you know who wrote this then?' The white egg saw that he was not ashamed to ask the obvious and was mildly amused. 'I think everyone of us here are wondering about the same thing.' Having seen enough, he made as if to leave.

Mr. Egg was not about to let this egg off the pan so easily. He ventured another question, 'Excuse me' he tried once more, 'pardon me for asking, what is your name?' 'Mr. Wisecrack' the answer came from the back view of the white egg. 'And you're pardoned.'

To be continued.