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Three Murganians, now full of burnt cake, were passing by and heard Alfred’s piteous cries for help. Fearing the worst, they quickly devised a cunning plan to get themselves out of earshot. For if they could not hear the cries for help then clearly they were under no obligation to offer assistance.
“Roll!” shouted one of the Murganians. They tried to roll as fast as there bellies would carry them, but the burnt cake was heavy and it soon became obvious that rolling was out of question.
“Help!” shouted Alfred. “Is someone there?”
{link – rolling Murganians}
Alfred, the clockwork Murganian, suddenly remembered he had an overdue library book.
He picked up the dusty book from the oven, took off his coat, rolled to the door and pulled a key from his shoe to let himself out. It was such a very long time since he had been out and he was most surprised to find that the seeds he had planted in the sky some time ago had grown to such an extent that his pathway was no longer accessible.
What to do? wondered Alfred. He wondered for a few minutes then realised that wondering was getting him nowhere and action was called for.
“Help” he shouted.
{link – key}
Minky pondered for a long moment before coming to a decision.
“Right then let us all go to Watermelon and cavort with Mr Jib and the Consortium! “
Yikesy sighed loudly. Normally good natured, his patience was beginning to wear thin. Having counted the letters between “W” and “N” and, even making allowances for a degree of “give or take”, he didn’t believe that Watermelon could possibly be the secret destination where they would find Mr Jib. If indeed they even wanted to find this Mr Jib, whoever he may be … and was Watermelon even a destination?
“Cheer up!” encouraged Minky. “Mr Jib is a delightful gentleman. I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t have the odd truffle in his pocket either.”
“Hark is that a knock at the door I hear! asked Phlora, “Flowyn must have forgotten his key again.”
However when she opened the door she was surprised to see 3 emaciated strangers.
“Forgive us for the intrusion,” said the skinniest of the trio. “But we are hungry Murganians and we smelt burnt cake. Burnt cake is our favourite.”
{link – Murganians}
“Oh I have burnt the cake! So occupied was I reflecting upon the joys of home, and now the blessed cake is ruined!” exclaimed Phlora. “And soon Floywn and Hywrik and the family winged horse will return, no doubt hungry as Murganians!”
But the sunflowers did look so very pretty and Phlora was not one to be downhearted for long.
{link – home}
Suddenly the green fairy burst into tears. Yikesy wondered what to do however continued to smile in the meantime. A crying green fairy was unlike anything he had encountered before.
When the snail rolled her eyes Yikesy felt close to tears himself. It reminded him so vividly of Arona, who was taking such a very long time to rescue him.
“Last one to the emporium buys us all bowler hats!” shouted Minky, hoping to revive the morale of his motley tour group.
“I don’t want to go the emporium and I am not crying!” exclaimed the green fairy indignantly. “I have some bowler hat fiber caught in my eye”.
“I believe Mr Jib’s emporium is currently closed anyway,” interjected the parrot wisely. “I follow Mr Jib on Flitter and it seems he is part of a consortium currently cavorting in a secret destination which begins with the letter W and ends in the letter N and has 35 letters in between.”
“I am confused,” said the lost and confused Yikesy. “Are Mr Minky and the green fairy one and the same?”
“Hahahahahahahahaha” laughed Shelly, surprisingly loudly for a snail. “We are all confused! None of it makes sense so why bother trying. What good is sense anyway? Would you like them to be one and the same?”
“I don’t have an opinion either way really on that one” retorted Yikesy. “I suppose the less names I have to remember the better. What I would really like is a glass of pineapple juice and a dish of black truffles.”
Lilac was rendered momentarily speechless by Nastytart’s words. Picking up her Lee Mon novel, “Making Sense in a Crazy World” she opened it at random:
Maybe you’re not ready for the profound revelation of utter sense?
Of course! That was it. She was not ready!
Lilac frowned. “But I am too hungry to stop the blubbits.”
“Lilac, this is an unprecedented situation, we must stop the pea dust,’” said Naturtium, rather sternly.
“Well I am confused, are we stopping the blubbits, or the pea dust?”
Naturtium, a rather charming nickname bestowed on her when she was young – her christened name was Nasturtium, looked thoughtful for a moment. “Right” she said at last, “You go and eat. I am going to study the situation carefully. It is imperative we get this right and save the Peaslanders. I suspect they are going to need their heads back …..”
“Oh, yes,” Finn agreed politely. “You start the new threads Annabel. I am busy waiting on the corner at the moment.”
Arona sighed and flipped randomly through the pages of her book. Try as she might she could not make any sense of it.
“You have a go, Yikesy,” she said. “See if you can figure out what it is about.”
Ann felt rather put out.
“How jolly rude to disappear like that.” she muttered
The truth was she had been feeling a tad out of sorts lately, plodding along, day in and day out, doing the same old things. She was finding Lavender rather dreary too, partly because she never seemed to be there when Ann called round. So the idea of helping the exotic, headless stranger with his mysterious request for “pea sauce” assistance had felt rather exciting. Ann loved nothing better than a good adventure.
And now the bugger had disappeared!
“There is one man to whom I am indebted,” said Shar, with a faraway look in her eyes.
“Blimey, who’s that then Shar?”
“Enric Lemoon is his name. One day he said words to me I will never forget, and at that moment, I knew that the most important thing in the world was that I learn to speak like him.”
“Oh you do tell a good story, Shar. Go on then! I am all goggle eared. What’d that Enric chappy say to you?”
“He said, the grumpy old cat must be white of old age by now.”
“Cor!” said Mavis in awe. “Bloody marvelous! Was it a code? You know, one of them brain teasers like?”
Shar looked at Mavis pityingly and shook her head. “It was poetry, Mavis. Poetry.”
“You will always be my endearingly ugly baby, Yikesy,” said Arona sternly, “however old you are. Why it was not even a year ago that you were eleven, according to that weirdo dragon anyway. And now here you are all grown up telling me you are eighteen. It doesn’t matter to me one way or another, my precious boy.”
Arona sniffled emotionally.
“Now keep hold of my hand while we go and see if we can find Vincentius. I hope he has that grumpy old cat with him.”
“Cor blimey, Shar. That bloody course did bloody wonders for your speaking. Proper high class you sound! And all bloody philosophic like too! Sand eh? Who’d of bloody thought”
Glor gazed at her friend in stunned wonderment.
“Bugger” said Sanso, rather bad-temperedly, but after all he had been practising for 57 days without a break. ‘I am never going to sound as melodic as that Vincentius.”
“Bugger!” bemoaned Fwick. “Blah! The butter is bitter. The butter I bought to go in the batter with the vegemyth. The butter is bitter, but now it’s blended in my batter and my blimmin batter is bitter.”
The little spider giggled gleefully to himself.
“Hear that?”
“What?” Yikesy looked puzzled.
“Shush!” said Arona, in a rather bossy way. “Yes! Can’t you hear it! It is Vincentius singing in his exceptionally melodic voice! He must be nearby!”
“Weeeeeee Haaaaaaaa!” shouted Yikesy.