Slapstick

Patties done, cheese melted, Goat slid them from the grill to the serving platter. He hopped up the makeshift stairs and through the patio door. But not quite high enough. His right foot, following the left inside, swung hard, slamming into the frame.  All toes,  except the big one, stubbed. He pitched forward, plate held out before him. As he fell, Goat saw the burgers lift off from the plate and launch through the air.

His knees slammed to the floor, and Goat looked up, watched the meat sail through the air, down the hall, and land, cheese side down.

Prompt courtesy of the Daily Post.

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