Fried, scrambled, roasted, bull’s eye, boiled, poached – eggs were his favourite in any form.
Today was a Sunday, and Sunday meant “BULL’S EYE!!” he roared happily.
He picked up an egg and cracked it carefully.
It shook violently in his hand.
Then rattled vigorously, throbbing by now.
He watched terrified as cracks rapidly spread through it.
Shocked to the core, he stood rooted to the spot as a creature’s head with a large mouth burst out from the yawning egg-shell and devoured him in one gulp.
The empty egg-shell clattered to the floor.
Deepest apologies if I have spoiled eggs for you. I myself shuddered as I imagined if an egg would behave the same way if I cracked it. Eurgh!