Write on one page only. There must be a beginning, middle and an end. The first line is:
Blue. Green. Blue. And blue again. Where was the yellow one?
"OMG! I can't believe this. She'll go RADIO. I'm telling you now I can't be the one to tell her!" Jayson was working himself into a full scale purple kniption while Jaymee watched in delighted glee as his nemesis realised that just five minutes before The Diva arrived there was no yellow M&M in the carefully laid out tray.
"Ohmigosh, Jayson" Jaymee was struggling to strike the right not of concern mixed with innocence. He knew damned well where the yellow sweetie was - in his back pocket.
Jayson-tight-jeans-Parsons might well be the grandson of the most feared fasionistah in London, after all you don't get cheekbones like that without some serious in-breeding. But, he'd have to crawl further for longer along that red carpet before he slithered over Jaymee to grab the coveted assistant to The Diva name badge.
Jaymee hadn't licked the nap of her suede Gucci heels flat for the last year and a half to see his prize handed over to this willowy wannabe. NO WAY Ho Jay!
Jayson is really panicing now, his perfect sharkfin retro doo has flopped, his cute detailed blingybling broach has sagged as he's sweated undecorously in his teeny weeny tee.
Oops here she comes. Jaymee is smirking.
"Dahling..." The Diva purrs in pleasure. "Karl told me only last week, that the horrid little yellow ones cause your teeth to stain. Too too awful. Jayson, how clever of you - you are always so fash ON!" Chris is next...
Chris ... (This one is just lovely it even has a title - mine doesn't have a title, maybe mine should have a title)...
The Roads of Upper Over There
Blue. Green. Blue. And blue again. Where was the yellow one? The Traffic lights had been playing up all weeek if only the Department of Glowing Objects or DGO as Fizzelhumpkin called them, would get out to fix them. But no. Nowhere had had their lights fixed. so why not Upper Over-There? Fizzelhumpkin waited untilthe bucket finished crossing the road and advanced.
After a couple more junctions where nobody knew what to do. Fizzelhumpkin finally got home. He had phoned the DGO but nobody had contactedhim back. This was becoming a real nuisance as it wascausing continuing chaos on the roads.
"Oh well" muttered Fizzelhumpkin as he made a cup of Pling. "At least I am not on the motorways...".
Blue. Green. Blue. And blue again. Where was the yellow one? Truth be told, he wasn't even really sure if there was a yellow jelly baby. It might be lemon, he reckoned. But did it exist. He'd eaten half the packet in the search. That presented two problems - firstly he hadn't had his lunch and mother was unlikely to accept the excuse that he was only going to eat one, but the rest had to be eaten to expose the actual one he wanted, but secondly, and this was so big it really should probably be considered first, certainly considering the risk involved, they were not his jelly babies. Dave was a kind brother. A sympathetic brother. A supportive brother. But a brother who loved his jelly babies. Hmmm.
Maybe Dave loved the yellow ones. Could that be it? No. He had prized open the packet. Dave hadn't started them so couldn't have picked out the yellow ones. Maybe he was thinking of fruit pastilles? His knowledge on all things of a confectionary nature was sadly lacking and the current predicament only served to highlight this fact. No solace to be sought in that revelation.
Desperate times cll for desperate measures and its funny how instinct kicked in during times of stress. Obviously all this frantic thought had to be fuelled and as the cogitations had cogitated, his hand had automatically fed him the remainder of the box. How ironic then that his eyes alighted on the last baby in the box. Te elusive yellow. Finally. Popping it into his mouth, he also stuffed the packet into his jeans pocket and wondered how long he could savour the taste before the price would have to be paid?