“Hi, I’m Agatha, pleased to meet you.”
“Nngnnghhhgnghgnn?”
“Hi, I’m Agatha, pleased to meet you.”
“Hnghgnngh gnghgnghn g ghhhgngng?”
That was what she loved about this planet, the stimulatingly high level of conversation. That’s why she’d stuck around so long. She tried one last time;
“Hi, I’m Agatha, pleased to meet you.”
“What? Who are you? Where am I?”
“Well, the who bit we’ve already covered, I’m Agatha,” sighed Agatha. “As for where you are, you’re face down on the back lawn of a house in Islington.”
“Oh,” said Belinda, “that explains why it’s so dark and I feel like I’ve got an ant up my nose.” Agatha waited patiently as she rolled over and sat up, blinking in the bright spring sunshine. A small colony of ants, relieved at the loss of this large obstacle from the route back to their nest went back to carrying away an Agatha Christie paperback.
“Look,” said the book’s author, “you’ve had a nasty shock and I shouldn’t be surprised if the saucepans inside have already got word of what’s happening, so it’s not safe for you here. You’d better come with me.”
Still looking utterly confused, Belinda got up to follow her before remembering to ask what on earth was going on.
“What on earth is going on?!” asked Belinda.
“Well not exactly on earth,” replied Agatha with a wry smile. “Come on, I’ll explain on the way.” And she hurried Belinda out of the garden to her waiting green scooter. But when she got to the front of ‘Dunadvertising’, the little green scooter had gone and in its place was a gently spinning water pistol.
(the earlier chapters are archived or here if you've forgotten what's going on!)
