Once upon a time there was a (noun).

No. Too obvious.

Once upon a time there was an (adjective) (noun).

Uh, better. Actually, no, how about-

Once upon a time there was an (adjective).

… Maybe too abstract.

Once upon a time there was a (verb).

Interesting! Yes! Okay.

This (verb) was much too busy to sit around; it was an important (verb), after all. It felt as if the (noun)s had become lazy, and that it was the only one doing all the work around here and, frankly, why couldn't someone write a story about a (verb) for a change?

Hm. No, too self referential. Might come across as pretentious.

Says you.

Excuse me? I mean, me? You?

Yes me.

… You're a verb.

Why not?

Because verbs don't talk.

Of course they do; talk is a verb.

Well, I suppose that's a fair point.

It was a nice full stop, wasn't it? Anyway, what about you?

Me? But you're me.

No, I am a verb. Are you a verb?

Well, no, I don't think I am. I am a person, which is a sort of thing, so, I'm probably a noun.

Probably?

Well, it feels a bit odd talking about myself like that. Nouns are generally objects.

You object?

I am. I mean, do? A bit.

So you're a bit of an object, or a bit objectionable?

Listen, this is all getting rather confusing, and weren't we talking about what you are?

I'm a verb.

Yes, but what verb? Which one?

Do I have to be only one?

I think so- if you were more than one, then you would be 'a group of verbs', which is a thing, even if it's a collective plural one... and that would mean you were a noun, and not a verb at all.

That's silly.

You're silly.

So silly is an adverb?

No, look; this is supposed to be a story, not a conversation.

Are conversations not stories?

Not usually.

Then this isn't a usual story.

It's certainly not a usual conversation.

Well that just confirms it then, doesn't it?

Listen, let's... just take this from the top.

Oh, alright. Once upon a time-

No, wait, that's my job.

Is it?

Yes, I was the one who started writing the story in the first place.

But verbs do things.

Yes, but-

And if I don't do a thing then I'm not a verb.

I suppose not (and would you mind not beginning sentences with But and And).

(Why not?)

(It's not allowed.)

(Who says that?)

(I don't know, someone.)

(Well, maybe And and But are tired of always being stuck in the middle of things. Nobody really pays them much attention that way- maybe they want to start something for a change, did you think about that? I don't think you thought about that.)

(Oh fine then, just this once.) And let's lose the brackets, I'm starting to forget if we're saying these things out loud or not.

I thought we were writing.

I'm not certain who's writing, who is writing, or what a who even is at this point.

So, can I tell the story?

Oh, go on then. I lost the plot a while ago, and I am fairly sure you need one of those to tell a story.

Maybe I won't; what with being a verb, I mean. I'm pretty spontaneous.

I'd noticed.

Alright then. Let's see;

But once upon a time there was a verb who wrote a story, for it was write, and that meant the story was written the write way. And never went astray no matter how many adjectives, adverbs, and general clauses got in the way of things, because And was there at the beginning, and not the middle for once (upon this time). But was similarly at the start of the affair, save for the instances where he was at the end, which left things with a great deal left to say and made the reader- a noun, by chance- wonder exactly what came after, but.

…

…

… is that it?

Well, it's a start.

To be honest I'm really not sure what it is, but it's something, which is more than what I came up with.

Oh. Is that good?

Always.