The tale of the fallen egg-seeker

TABLET I: THE TALE OF THE FALLEN EGG-SEEKER
From the archives of the great scribe Ur-Nammu
In the year of abundant harvests

Hear, O listeners, the tale of Kumar the Unfortunate,
Who did venture forth in the Hour of Setting Sun
To the Great House of Seven-Eleven, merchant of many wonders.

Let it be known that Kumar sought the eggs of chickens,
For his wife had commanded: "Bring forth eggs for the morning feast,
Lest we face the dawn with empty bowls."

But the gods, in their infinite mischief,
Had conspired with Ishkur, Lord of the Storms,
To leave drops of rain upon the tiles of the Great House.

Kumar, son of Dilmun, keeper of spreadsheets,
Did stride forth with the confidence of kings,
His sandals of rubber squeaking upon the wet floor.

But lo! The sign of warning, yellow as the sun itself,
"CAUTION: WET FLOOR" in markings most sacred,
Did escape his notice, for he was checking his phone.

And so it came to pass, in the aisle of dairy treasures,
That Kumar's feet did betray him like a false friend,
And gravity, that most ancient of forces, did claim him.

Up went his legs, like cedar trees in a whirlwind!
Down went his dignity, like a stone in the Euphrates!
And eggs - twelve perfect eggs - did take flight like Anzu's birds!

The clerks of Seven-Eleven, witnesses to this spectacle,
Did struggle to maintain their professional composure,
Though their shoulders shook like reeds in the wind.

Let all who hear this tale remember:
Check thy phone not while walking on wet floors,
Lest thou too become a story for the ages.

Thus ends the first and only tablet of Kumar's tale,
May its wisdom serve future generations,
And may the gods grant him better balance in his next shopping venture.

[HERE THE TABLET IS DAMAGED]
[SOMETHING ABOUT INSURANCE CLAIMS]