Being a Peanut is tiring work. Just look at young Toby here — he’s a growing boy (growing from the belt outwards).
Things got a bit much for the young fella when he accompanied the Peanuts to a rally somewhere in Sydney that we don’t care enough about to properly report on. The Peanuts had their placards, their loud hailers, and their sandals.
They yelled at the population of Sydney and when they were done they maybe went off for a few dozen beers and burgers with extra chips. Nick probably ate sushi.
Of course, Tobes had most likely been out on the pingas the night before, so he was especially tired out. But when the Fellowship of the Peanut got back to Peanut Palace, that’s when it all proved too much for our half-Paki White Supremacist. The poor tyke was tired out after yelling at seagulls about halal food, Moslem refugees, ‘what race is Islam’, and all that stuff from the Peanuts’ repertoire.
He fell asleep, napping on Nick’s garden chair; his manifold chins resting on the airbag of his enormous belly. Toby started to dream. We can only guess at what he was dreaming about — it might have been Nick dressed up in Lederhosen leading the Peanuts in a victorious parade while he stood at his side. He may have been dreaming that Penny Louise had asked him to do her laundry or he might well have been dreaming about one of those yummy curries his mum used to make when he was a boy and they had just arrived in the country from Pakistan.
We guess he probably was dreaming about food after all because once the sandman had finished sprinkling his daylight dust on Tobes’s hefty eyelids, dribble issued forth from his lips, captured by someone on their phone… or maybe on their camera.
Yep, looking at Tobes is a major gross-out at the best of times, but to witness this snoring gorgon dribbling spittle down his flabby chins is enough to kill a person’s appetite for at least 72 hours. Once seen, this image cannot be unseen. There were distressing images doing the rounds after yesterday’s horrendous truck attack in Sweden — victims splattered all over the road in a sprawling pool of nauseous pink paste. But even that paled next to the sight of toby drooling like a mental patient.
It really isn’t normal behaviour. The average person doesn’t drool in their sleep, only people on heavy psych meds salivate helplessly like that.
We are feeling pretty sick right now, folks, so you will have to let us end this write-up here. There is only one bucket in the UNA Towers’ office, and right now Chris Shortis is heaving uncontrollably into it.
We might even have to call a doctor, but the only one we know is Dr Jim Saleam, and he’s too busy running the Internet to see us now. He’s not a doctor of medicine either.