“I can’t help it!” Rowena shrieked desperately. She was eating a sausage; in fact one sausage after another. It wasn’t a competition or anything; it was simply that she had purchased a container of pre-cooked sausages – twenty-four to a packet – and she had got hooked. A short nuke in the microwave warmed the pre-cooked up in a jiff.
Not that she wasn’t addicted to sausages in the first place. She had always been partial. That’s why she bought them. And they were on sale. So far she had eaten six. There were still eighteen to go.
Common sense prevailed. She quickly opened the freezer lid and threw them in. She would space them out. So as not to be tempted she donned her raincoat, took the umbrella, and went for a walk.
When she got home her son’s football team were there and they had eaten all the sausages. It was a post-match “where did we go wrong?” review.
Rowena didn’t say a word but she was glad they had lost. “Some people are born to be selfish,” she said.
It couldn’t be denied: Anne and Stanley were rich. When they married it was rich family marries rich family. Not only were they both from “old rich” families, but both were successful business people who with the moneyed kick-start were able to qualify as “new rich” as well.
They had a daughter, Esme. Just the one child and she was the biggest spoilt brat on the planet. Anne and Stanley, although they feared it was too late, knew they were responsible for their daughter’s overindulgence and decided they had better do something about it. They were going to say “No!” in no uncertain terms to Esme’s next “I want” request. They didn’t have to wait long.
“Mummy, can I have another doll?”
“Daddy, can I have another doll?”
“Why do you hate me?” screamed Esme. She went out to the incinerator and threw all of her ninety-six dolls in the fire.
Ferdinand was the most selfish cattle beast in the herd. For example, when the cattle were all driven through a gate into a fresh pasture, every animal would begin to eat the grass just inside the gate. Not so, Ferdinand.
Ferdinand would stroll to the far end of the field away from all the other beasts. That way he wouldn’t have to share. He had all the fresh grass in the world. Several days later, by the time the herd reached the far end of the field they would say to one another, “Where has our grass gone? How come there is no long grass here in the field? Someone selfish must have been eating it.”
That is why Ferdinand was the fattest bull in the herd (and therefore the first to go to the slaughter house).