Wednesday, 19 July 2017

Tuftie's Attempt to get a job at a Chocolate Factory


“What do you mean, you’ve got a job at a Belgian Chocolate Factory!?!” Naima yelled.
“Only the most skilled workers go there!” Lily-Grace agreed.
“Exactly,” Tuftie said.
“But that means you’ll have to fly all the way to Belgium!” George, one of Naima’s other soft-toys, argued.
“Exactly,” Tuftie repeated.
“Have you ever made chocolate before?” Naima asked.
“Nope!” Tuftie grinned.
“Then how did you get the job?” Lily-Grace enquired.
“I said I was a bright young boy who had got 93% in a school test about chocolate.”
“You mean you lied,” George said bluntly.
“Well, one thing, you’re a dog, a toy dog at that, not a boy.”
“Same difference.”
“And did you really get a 93 in the test?”
“Yup! -93, anyway.”
“When does your plane leave?” Naima asked.
“Oh, in about ten minutes.”
“WHAT! Have you packed!?” Lily-Grace shrieked.
“Nah. But ten minutes is a lot of time!”
“It isn’t when you need to go to Belgium and you haven’t got anything ready! Come on, I’ll help you pack.”
Ten extremely rushed minutes and twenty-four boring hours later, Tuftie jumped off the plane. He looked in his wallet for some money and found $2. Great, he was starving. Fortunately there was a vending machine close by. He shoved the $2 in the slot and punched in the number for a chocolate bar. Nothing happened. Tuftie shook the vending machine, and nothing happened. Suddenly his money fell out of another slot. Roughly 7 tries later he remembered that the money he had was New Zealand money, and that it was useless in places like Belgium.
Tuftie made his way to the Chocolate Factory where he was destined to start his new job.
“Bonjour, comment puis-je vous aider?” the receptionist asked.
“What?” Tuftie asked.
“Oh, you speak English,” the receptionist said, suddenly speaking in perfect English, “Can I help you?”
“Hi, I’m Tuftie and I have started a new job here,” Tuftie said.
The receptionist looked through a book. “Good. You can be in charge of adding the decorations on the chocolates. Maxime will show you through that.”
A huge, muscled man walked into the room. He held out his hand for Tuftie to shake. Tuftie stared at his hand in a confused manner. The man sighed and led him into a huge room, where tiny delicious-smelling chocolates were lined up in neat rows.
“Your job is to add chocolate sprinkles on the chocolates on the far right and coffee bean shavings on the ones next to them. Call me when you’re done.” With that, Maxime left.
Tuftie looked around, and saw some big tubs of chocolate sprinkles and coffee bean shavings. “Coffee beans on the far right, chocolate sprinkles two to the left, or was it three? Eh, I’ll just make it four.” He started clumsily chucking the toppings all over all of the chocolates, then saw a large tub of whipped cream.
“Oooh! I’ll be even more helpful and add whipped cream to them!” Tuftie said happily. He grabbed pawfuls of the cream and started dumping it all over the chocolates.
Half an hour later Maxime came back in to find the whole room covered in whipped cream, sprinkles and coffee bean shavings. And Tuftie was sitting right in the middle of the room, licking the last of the chocolate from his paws.
“Oh, hello!” he said cheerily. “Just test-tasting the chocolate.”
“So you got sacked on your first day on the job.” Lily-Grace said flatly.
“Yes,” Tuftie conceded.
“OH WELL DONE,” George said sarcastically.
“Yeah, not many people can get fired on their first day,” Tuftie grinned, not getting the sarcasm.
“Well now that that’s done, we can get back to our normal thing,” Naima said. “No more jobs. Deal?”
“No deal.”
“Huh?” Everyone said at once.
“Yeah,” said Tuftie. “I’ve already started looking in the newspaper for another job!”
Naima facepalmed. “Oh bummer!”

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