Be a Sorry Stick

Anonymous 03/24/12(Sat)02:03 No.796357

>be a broom
>you are finely made, and proud of this
>a sturdy wooden handle, bristles of finely wrought plastic, and a smokin' hot pan
>your owner is a muscular man of fine tidiness and order
>this time, though, he was brought a small, fluffy thing into the house
>it is small and fluffy, a new squeegee perhaps?
>no no, it runs around and talks!
>you watch with your mystical broom powers as it knocks a glass over
>that show-off the mop is going to come out now
>you're surprised as your owner grabs you instead
>he immediately uses you to strike the poor creature
>this is not how your factory intended! you lathe would be ashamed
>it's crying as your fine bristles swat it in the face and scratch its big eyes
>your owner is roaring, and you are now the "Sorry Stick"
>you rail against this, hating that an instrument of cleanliness and order is being wielded as a weapon of terror
>of course, you are just a broom

>where you once delighted in your charge of cleanliness, you now dread leaving the solitude of your cupboard
>just this week you have been taken out three times
>the "fluffy pony" seems to be rather dim-witted, and you pity the poor thing
>no creature should be beaten about the head and face with you rasping bristles or the stern hardness of your composite wood mulch handle
>the incident with the grape juice was too awful
>as the master swung into its little ribs with you oaken body, broom tears slid down your handle with every impact
>it would wheeze and beg pitiably to put the 'sowwy stick' away
>alas your handle must fracture its little bones
>alas your bristles must scratch its eyes
>whenever it sees you the mewling starts, and she begs this monster that you once called friend to stop
>at least you think its begging
>it also pees a lot, and this makes you laugh at the broom

>after three weeks of merciless beating, the fluffy pony is granted a great mercy
>taken from this place to the "orphanage"
>at last, you are a weapon of order again
>at least until the next creature arrives
>a dog, brown and excitable shows up
>if you had a voice, you would warn it of your owner's crimes, of his temper
>you are, however, a broom and thus lack a mouth
>luckily, you are not used against this poor beast
>a rolled up newspaper is instead pressed into service
>why then, would he choose you, a clearly more powerful tool, to punish such a smaller, softer creature?
>the paper could not snap fluffy bones or bloody noses
>you contemplate this as the owner leaves the dog outside for a week while he is else where
>you watched it wither away in the yard, for it had spilled its water bowl and eaten its food in the first day
>your owner is a terrible man
>worse since he replaces the dog with another fluffy pony