The Barry Loser Series

‘Afternoon, Barold,’ drawled Gordon, reaching out to grab a Tears of Granny Laughter, and I gasped. I was gasping because the shelf was COMPERLEETERLY EMPTY apart from that carton.

‘Oh dear, what a shame. None for little Barold!’ he smiled, grabbing the carton and holding it up like he was in an advert for Tears of Granny Laughter.

The carton was Beryl flavour, which everyone knows is the tastiest Tears of Granny Laughter flavour, seeing as Beryl is the least ugly out of the three grannies in the advert.

‘NOOOOO!’ I wailed, just as a skinny man in a Feeko’s uniform popped his head around the aisle.

‘Hello, my name’s Mike. Let me see if I can find you another carton of Tears of Granny Laughter today!’ chuckled the man, whose name tag said Mike, plus he’d just said his name was Mike, so I spose his name was Mike.

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