Dear Prime Minister
Most people think it’s simple being a pancake, some people just take us for granted, its silly how humans just treat us like pancakes, we have feelings too, just like you humans. You’re just too full of yourselves and this story will help spread the word about how pancakes feel and should be treated.
To be honest, I think we’re going to go off soon if that Mother of theirs won’t get us out of the packet, we’re all squashed like beans in a can. Silly people, how can anyone choose toast over yummy scrummy pancakes for breakfast! You can’t even imagine how annoying they can be.
You never know what pancakes get up to whilst the humans are away. We don’t just sit there, oh no, I wouldn’t bear a second of just sitting there. We sprout out legs and arms, and go mad in the kitchen! Clever, isn’t it, and the children get blamed for the mess… Result!
After all, no one would guess that it was pancakes.
Boring. Nothing at all. Just sitting in packet roasting like chicken in an oven.
Ooh, la ,la. We had some French amongst us, French toast actually.
I’m surprised that they didn’t bring their fluffy poodles with snails and slugs and whatnot.
You should have figured by now that I am a very knowledgeable and well spoken pancake as you can see in my writing, not many pancakes are like this. I am doing this for the PRA (Pancake Rights Association) and other pancakes because none have enough brains to manage one word of this.
Being treated simply!(again)
Call from the PRA about how pancakes should take over London. People are pulling at the bag of pancakes and we are being tossed about like well…pancakes, not like normal tossed around but tossed around as in being thrown around.
Finally! After an endless wait of three whole days(Please note that 3 days is a very long time for a pancake, don’t judge.), we are taken out of the package and get to be tossed around (this is the fun kind of being tossed around) in the frying pan which is a bit like a hot tub for us pancakes. We got onto the coolness of the bottom of the plate. No one spoke to us, because we are pancakes (which is a bit unfair mind you) and soon I got swept into the digestive system of a girl! Hurrah! I have made myself cosy down here.
So,Mr Prime Minister, tell your people to be nice to their pancakes at breakfast, take them to Shoe Island to buy them shoes or at least give them a little badge saying ‘ My BFF is a PANCAKE!’ If you don’t listen then it is your fault if in 2 weeks we attack London Pancake shops. This is very important.
Yours faithfully, truly and flatfully
A very intelligent pancake