out of the leerdammer pops a head. a ginger head (with a ginger beard and everything).
it peers around and is lifted out further, followed by shoulders and arms and kilted legs.
Hamish MacDougall stands tall, holds the bagpipes nervously to his lips and blows. they emit an excruciatingly high squeal, and he hastily stops.
"och noo," he mutters, "tha's not the player tha' used to be, MacDougall"
"did you call?" asks Nu Nu, hovering above the cheese
"noo i di'nay call no elephant," replies Hamish.
"you just did it again,"
"noo"
"and again"
Hamish is not a man to be messed with. He is a bagpipe player with perfect pitch. He picks up Nu Nu and hurls him into the duck pond. Turning away he rubs his hands together. "tha'll ta'ch im tae muss wi' 'a harra' crum'bli'n scoot lach mon hoots ya wee sassenach."
Sunday, August 20, 2006
ch04) earlier 2.30 pm
Through the stillness of the wood there came a haunting melody, the sound of someone playing a pipe. Zobe was mesmerized. She walked along the path in a daze, trying to work out where the music was coming from. The mice and Gimli followed, equally overcome by its beauty.
Soon they came out of the woods and to some rolling hills. They could still hear the music, and as they were starting to walk up the hill they met a leerdammer (Dutch cheese with holes) “over die heuvels!” he shouted, “en verre van hier!”
“Exactly!” replied Zobe, trying to make the newcomer feel welcome, “more uber those herbles indeedy!”
They reached the top of the hill, still pursuing (trivially) that remarkable music. Zobe could see the music makers.
She whipped out her ironing board and surfed down the hill after the teletubbies. But alas, she never quite reached them. A freak wave washed her eastwards and set her down many miles away, still clutching the wig, next to a kindly old lady. The leerdammer, the mice, Gimli and the pied Tubbies of Hamelin were nowhere to be seen. Maybe they were all together somewhere and had decided to set up a traveling circus. We’ll never know.
“Hello.” Said the tortoise, “I’m supposed to add comedy value. Apparently. Don’t see it, myself. I mean, sure, you’d think crazy talking tortoises would be funny, wouldn’t you? But what if I don’t want to be funny? I don’t know. My cousins could all do it. They’d add fun to any story. But not me. I’d rather just sit at home and read the papers. Sad, isn’t it?”
It should be pointed out about now that Shelly, the crazy talking tortoise, has no real role in this story. Just in case you were wondering. She is merely being added to distract from the *plot* (or lack thereof). She will not, rest assured, turn up later in an unexpectedly key role. There is nothing whatsoever to read into her gibbering. Or if there is, it’ll be a real surprise now, won’t it!?
Squeak
Soon they came out of the woods and to some rolling hills. They could still hear the music, and as they were starting to walk up the hill they met a leerdammer (Dutch cheese with holes) “over die heuvels!” he shouted, “en verre van hier!”
“Exactly!” replied Zobe, trying to make the newcomer feel welcome, “more uber those herbles indeedy!”
They reached the top of the hill, still pursuing (trivially) that remarkable music. Zobe could see the music makers.
She whipped out her ironing board and surfed down the hill after the teletubbies. But alas, she never quite reached them. A freak wave washed her eastwards and set her down many miles away, still clutching the wig, next to a kindly old lady. The leerdammer, the mice, Gimli and the pied Tubbies of Hamelin were nowhere to be seen. Maybe they were all together somewhere and had decided to set up a traveling circus. We’ll never know.“Hello.” Said the tortoise, “I’m supposed to add comedy value. Apparently. Don’t see it, myself. I mean, sure, you’d think crazy talking tortoises would be funny, wouldn’t you? But what if I don’t want to be funny? I don’t know. My cousins could all do it. They’d add fun to any story. But not me. I’d rather just sit at home and read the papers. Sad, isn’t it?”
It should be pointed out about now that Shelly, the crazy talking tortoise, has no real role in this story. Just in case you were wondering. She is merely being added to distract from the *plot* (or lack thereof). She will not, rest assured, turn up later in an unexpectedly key role. There is nothing whatsoever to read into her gibbering. Or if there is, it’ll be a real surprise now, won’t it!?
Squeak
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