There once was a Brick who wanted nothing more in life than to be a Revolutionary. He would lie on his pile and shout dogma of anarchy and freedom to all who passed. He would dream, when no-one was around, about going through the big plate glass window down the High Street.
One day, some scruffy-looking people (smelling of patchouli and vomit) heard the Brick's chants and slogans, and being only simple people agreed there's no Great Society. Besides, the kids wanted to liberate what was on the other side of the glass. So the leader of the group picked up the Brick and hurled it towards the shop.
"This is it," thought the Brick. "Finally, my destiny!"
But as the Brick hit the window in a clap of anticipation, he bounced off, landing on the ground - crushed. He was kicked to the curb by a policeman's boot that had always wanted to kick some hippie's Brick.
