Once in Osaka, a group of young men stood talking. All of a sudden, a man rushed up to them, looking quite terrified.

“Save me, save me!” he cried.

“What’s wrong?” someone asked.

“The bun seller is coming and I’m so, so scared of buns. Please help me. Don’t let him see me.”

The young men looked at each other, much amused. One pointed to a shack with thin walls and said,  “Go hide in that old house.” The man thanked him, ran quickly to it, and disappeared within. Soon after, a seller with boxes of buns rode by on a bike.

“Let us have a little fun,” suggested one of the men. “We’ll buy all the buns and throw them at that coward. ”

The others laughed and rushed to buy buns. Each man held several buns as they formed a circle around the hut. Then, one at a time, each tossed a bun through one of the many holes and windows there. Every time a bun went in, they heard a “AAAHHH” or “HELP” or some such satisfying noise. At last all the buns were gone, all thrown in with many a frightened sound heard in reply. But suddenly, it was too quiet. No sound came from the house. The young men looked worried.

“Perhaps we went too far,” said one.

“I do hope we didn’t scare him to death,” whispered another.

“We’d better check and see if we can save him,” suggested the bravest man. Slowly he went toward the old door. Still no sound could be heard inside. With his heart beating too fast, he finally pushed open the door and looked in.

There sat the man afraid of buns. But he did not look frightened, he looked most contented and very full. With a smile, he brushed off the last crumb from his mouth.

“Ah, those buns were indeed fearful,” he said looking up at them. “Thank you for your help. And now, I’m so, so scared of a good, hot cup of tea.”