This morning I went to an establishment called the Soul Stop Café.
I ate breakfast there and had a cup of coffee and then, enjoying the ambience, I stayed a while longer to drink some tea.
It was only after leaving that I realised the terrible threat in the café’s name. Presumably, as a result of visiting and consuming their food and drink, which must have been treated in some way, my soul is going to stop.
If there is anyone here with a medical background, I urgently need to know what will happen when my soul stops and whether it’s possible to restart it. I am pretty worried here and I’m not sure if I should call an ambulance, so please respond as soon as you can. Thanks.
13 comments on “Soul Stop”
In order for your soul to stop, you have to have one in the first place.
I erm take it then this particular establishment is not up to scratch or have you discovered Satan’s eatery?
Ouch. That was uncalled for.
The establishment was up to, and indeed slightly above the level of, scratch. I’m just worried about the side effects.
How does your soul feel at the moment? Complete? Clean? Rigid like a wizard’s bidet?
It feels besmirched, but I think it quite likes that, so I’m not doing much about it.
Sounds like you need a deep soul cleanse. It’s very sensual and you only need some Malteasers and a rubber glove.
Maybe, but I hate going to the Soul Cleanser. Last time they had to use a general anaesthetic.
Well my next profession is quarry sprayer so unfortunately you’ll have to see if Kevin or someone else might cleanse your soul bits.
I’m not letting him near them. Not now all his poodle grooming tools have gone rusty.
I’M SORRY, I CAN’T HEAR YOU OVER THE SOUND OF MY QUA… sorry. I couldn’t hear you over the sound of my quarry spraying.
I’m sure if he puts on a suit and buffs his tools to sheen (waaaaaay!) he’ll be the best qualified out of the three of us, unless you’d like to undertake it yourself?
I couldn’t possibly. Big Man doesn’t do any work himself. He pays other people to do it and then reclines in a leather armchair with a glass of champagne. Just get on to it as soon as you can. Big Man tips generously.
I thought so.
You’ve changed, man. I remember when you used to dance for pennies just off of Northumberland Street.
No wait, that was Kevin.
Yeah, that was Kev, back in the good old days. Back before he decided to extend his house across the full surface area of the UK.