they got the smiles go

:B

Once upon a time, in a small village far far away, there was a little mouse. His name was Fuck. No, his mother never named him that way—mice, belive it or not, never name their children—but he knew that his name was Fuck.

Every morning he went to the kitchen for a bite of the delicious paprika bread his landlady was so talented in baking. The landlady was a tall wide woman with those hands only village women have—bulky and strong, but moving with tender and graciousness. Each dawn she would rise before the rooster—old and deaf was this poor thing—and would bake this delicious paprika bread of hers, before sitting down for a tea.

"Good morning," the little mouse named Fuck would say to her.
"Fuck!" she would answer and storm out of the kitchen.

It was a peculiar little ritual they were having in this little village far far away—a tall wide landlady and a little mouse, whose name was Fuck.