8thdayfiction

…and on the 8th day, micro fiction was published on some dude's blog.

A Few Words From The Broom

You know who I hate? That arrogant little punk Swiffer.

Oooh, look at me! I clean BETTER than a broom or mop! My Swiffer pads attract dirt and dust, they don’t just push them around!

Whatever–I go out there and get the job done EVERY DAY with the same bristles I’ve had from the beginning. I don’t change my pad like some chick during her time of the month.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry–that was sexist, I take that back. I’m just so angry, you know?

I’ve been around for centuries–CENTURIES–and all of a sudden this new thing shows up like it’s God’s gift to janitors and housewives, and I’m yesterday’s news.

Well let me ask you something: You think this Swiffer is going to last? I mean, forget about what cleans better–you think that thing will have the same cultural impact I’ve had? Yeah right–you ever seen a witch or a Quidditch player riding a SWIFFER?

Of course not. THEY WOULD LOOK RIDICULOUS.

So, whatever, Swiffer. Brag all you want about how freaking great you are if it’ll make you feel better. Just know that I was here first, and I am not going ANYWHERE.

It is ON.

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