WOW!!!

No body has been on here in ages!!!!!!!!! Nothing has changed since I last came on here!!!

checking your emails

haha

"I'm just trying to work out whether you're trying to grow a beard...
or if you think you've already got one?"

Pirates

Hurrah for the ginger guild of pirates!
now, lets all sing the guild anthem:

gingers are the coolest
people in the world
oh
gingers are the best

chorus:
   and pirates like to plunder
   pilage rape and loot
   pirates are so crazy
   and they dont have shiny boots

we are all so different,
maybe short or tall
but
gingers are the best

chorus

so let's unite as gingers
all gingers everywhere
cos
gingers are the best!

Carol

What a lovely castle, thought Carol, all turrety with lovely crenellations. She swam down to have a bit of a closer look but on the way caught sight of a beautiful open clam shell nestling in the gravel. The way it shimmered pinkly in the aquatic light floating down from above was so beautiful. Darting across to have a closer look she noticed a beautiful pink fish darting towards her. How pretty the fish was! She waved and the beautiful pink fish waved back. It clearly didn’t mind being a clichéd reflection in the side of the tank and was happy just to mirror Carol’s movements. Feeling cheerful, Carol was going to ask the beautiful pink fish its name but just then she noticed a castle. What a lovely castle, thought Carol, all turrety with lovely crenellations. She had a fleeting moment of existential guilt at perpetuating the myth that fish have a 3 second memory but that was soon swept away by the guilt of knowing that she’d only had existential guilt because it sounded posher than normal guilt. She particularly liked the gilt edges on the crenellations of the castle turrets – and it was a lovely castle…

She was shaken out of this downward spiral of cliché, preconception and guilt by the nerve-jangling sound of the fire alarm going off. Peering out of her tank past the people running for the large double doors, she saw that a large pink bat flew had flown in and shot straight into the fire alarm, breaking the glass and setting it off.

Taking off her pink sunglasses in surprise, Carol realized that it was in fact a black bat and she watched as it fluttered onto the windowsill. What on earth was it doing now – it appeared to be contorting its face into the strangest of expressions as it stuck its head under its wing and peered around the room. With dawning comprehension she realized that it was actually trying to cast sly glances around the room whilst not being entirely sure what a sly glance was. Perhaps it was something to do with being blind she reasoned.

Boring quickly of the chiropteran visitor, Carol wondered where Dr Stone had got to – it wasn’t like him to be this late to morning surgery and the lack of patients screaming in pain and fear was beginning to unnerve her. Although their screaming as they had run from the fire alarm had almost made up for it.

shiny

hurrah for shiny new blogger!

the terrible tale of terry

once upon a time there lived a sea cucumber called terrence, or terry, for short. as our story begins he is 4 years old, just approaching middle age. terry looked around him. the same scene greeted his eyes as had done every other day for as long as he cared to remember (which was about 2 days). he sighed heavily, wondering again how he came to be here and, more importantly, how he could come to be somewhere else as soon as possible. it was the same every morning - the clams to the left of him, turtles to the right, here he was stuck in the middle... alone.

how he wished that betty hadn't left. but that was the trouble with star fish: so selfish, so unreliable, so impulsive... he'd known he would never be able to hold on to her for long. beautiful betty! he decided to write a quick song, in her honour:

a one, a two, a one, two, three, four...

no, he thought, too upbeat. start again:

one, two, three, four
la la la laaaaaa

no, he thought, it needed more words. how about:

#betty
#beautiful betty
#bubbly betty
#betty boo
#i'm blue without betty
#blue boo baloo
#bagheera too
#i wanna be like you hoo hoo
#the KING OF THE JUNGLE
#Yeah!

sighing, he realised that he'd got carried away again. he tried to imagine the jungle - it must be an amazing place! but a poor sea cucumber like him could never hope to see it. he would stay here for the rest of his days, mourning the loss of sweet betty. just the thought of her made him tremble.

#betty my darling
#betty so sweet
#my love if you had any
#i would kneel down at your feet
#but you only have things
#i don't know the name of
#and anyway i don't have knees

#i'd like to hold you in my arms
#but i don't got no arms
#and i'm singing like a redneck
#oh why oh why
#do i have to be a sea cucumber
#when i want to fly
#with you, my betty
#over the sea, through the sky
#betty

oh what could be better than betty, he thought. even butter couldn't be better than betty. some people couldn't believe that butter wasn't better than betty, but betty beat butter anyday. hands down. well...

he wondered why he'd suddenly got a fixation with butter and realised that it was time for his morning toast. that was another thing about the sea, he just couldn't get his toast to that particular level of crispiness he liked. the sea always had other ideas - and it was bigger than he was. oh well - he had learned to put up with the soggy variety. of course, not having a mouth, he was never able to enjoy the toast as much as he'd like, but still he made it, every morning.

hang on!!! what was that? he peered in to the gloom. surely it couldn't be... it couldn't be betty could it?

his heart quickening, he leant forwards, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever those things were that he didn't know the name of. but through the gloom came somebody completely different. a turtle!

"hello," said terry.

"gulp," said the turtle.

hmm... thought terry, as the digestive juices quickly... um... digested him, he really wasn't as friendly as he looked!

as his endoskeleton crumbled, terry's last thought was hang on, i dont have an exoskeleton, that must be why my endoskeleton is crumbling. it wasn't a profound last thought, but it was all he had.

Inspiration - Chapter 9

As Felix came to, he couldn't help feeling like he had been battered from head to toe by an entire kitchen full of stainless steel saucepans. Which wasn't far from the truth, except that he didn't have an entire kitchen full of stainless steel saucepans. As he gingerly felt around him he winced – it felt like his arm was broken in two places (it was). More worryingly, it felt like he wasn't wearing anything except a lion skin cape (he wasn't). Entirely confused by his surroundings and a little bit weak from the pain, he decided that by far the easiest course of action was to black out for a little while longer, so he did.

Football club in diary own goal

Football club chiefs scored an own goal when they sent out diaries listing all the trophies won by their arch-rivals.

Birmingham City's (BCFC) official diary listed the club as seven-time champions of the English top division, as well as European Cup winners in 1982.

But the competitions were actually won by city rivals Aston Villa. BCFC's top achievement came in 1963 when the club won the Football League Cup.

A BCFC statement said it was an error by the publishers, who had apologised.

The diary page also stated that BCFC had won the FA Cup seven times, the League Cup five times and the European Super Cup.

In fact, apart from BCFC's 1963 honour, the club has won the second tier league (currently called the Championship) four times, the third tier once, the Leyland DAF Cup in 1991 and the Auto Windscreens Shield in 1995.

The statement said: "The club is fully aware that an error has been made in the diary on just one page.

"The publishers have acknowledged and accepted the mistake... and have unreservedly apologised for any embarrassment caused.

"The problem was spotted early and no diaries were distributed by the club."

It said it was surprised the story had been reported on the front page of a local newspaper.

"We would also like to make it clear that Birmingham City Football Club has never won the European Cup."

story from the bbc news.

Inspiration - Chapter 8

"Here Arthur, here's one for the front page. 'Little green man on little green scooter spotted in Islington'... I ask you, you'd think they’d have more things to worry about than little green men, what with the disappearance of all those people, of course I say people, they were advertising executives but then we can't hold that against them can we – well of course we can't, they’ve vanished... oh, sorry, I didn’t realise you were on the phone..."

"Agatha, Agatha, are you there?" said Arthur, but the phone remained resolutely unresponsive.

a woeful tale

"where are my sandles gone!?"
dear Zobe wails
distress well displayed
on her face.

"have you seen my sandles,
billy bob jones?"
"no, ma'am,
they've left not a trace."

"i lent them to you, then,
dear herman, my friend?"
"no, but i wish your young heart
i could mend."

"oh where will i find them?"
our Zobe girl cries,
where did i put them?
where do they hide?

look under your beds,
in the back of your fridge,
leave no stone unturned,
as long as you live,

for even this moment,
as homeward we go,
our Zo hath no sandles,
though she needs them so.

meet Henry

 

Henry the bat

Henry cast a sly glance around the room. This was before he remembered that, being a bat, he was in fact blind. He decided to ignore this minor hindrance. He was the main character in a story which would be mostly read by people. He was clearly going to be personified in their minds. So surely, reasoned Henry, he could borrow the eyesight of his human models?

Hoping that this sounded intelligent enough to convince the average reader, Henry cast a sly glance around the room.

This is what he saw:

      One small aquarium by the big double doors;
      Several institutional looking chairs;
      A desk with hundreds of official looking bits of paper behind it;
      Some tattered posters demonstrating the potentially horrific results of not brushing twice daily.

Henry knew all about these dangers. His orthodontist, Dr. Stone, had made sure of that. Dr. Stone was, incidentally, the reason that Henry was here. Much as he despised the man for ruining his smile and stealing his voice, he couldn’t just ignore what he knew. Dr. Stone was in mortal danger. And Henry was his only chance… 

Inspiration - Chapter 7

Groggily, the little green man with a water pistol’s thoughts swam into focus. His vision followed reluctantly as he replayed the last few minutes’ events in his head. They didn’t make any more sense second time round and he was just about to start on the third viewing when he heard groaning from behind him. Taking care not to make any noise or unnecessary movement, he turned his head to see the annoying human he’d hit with his first water pistol shot. She was lying face down on the ground in front of the very determined old lady who had attacked him. An Agatha Christie paperback appeared have taken on a life of its own and was trying to find a way around the prone body on the grass. Fearful that it could be part of a cunning plot by the stainless steel saucepans, the little green man with a water pistol edged across the grass towards the front of the house. Reaching the gate he picked himself up and sprinted around the house to the road where a little green scooter sat with the engine still running. Swearing profusely, the little green man with a water pistol gunned the little green scooter’s engine. Realising that he was just making it wet, he dropped the water pistol, jumped on the little green scooter and rode off up the road.

Inspiration - Chapter 6

“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!)

EPILOGUE

"                                        ", said Gimli.

ch7) earlier 7.15pm

Walking through the beautiful garden, Zobe slipped and fell headfirst into a pile of balloons. She tried to get out, but all she could hear was that funny squeaky sound, and all she could see was pinkness. Every move just pushed her further down. After just a few moments of struggle she stopped, exhausted, and tried to think. Now that the balloons had grown silent she could hear other noises. Not the noises she’s been hearing in the garden though. There were voices. Laughing and talking. Excited voices. She tried to hear what they were saying, and was just about to call for help when something grabbed hold of her head and started to pull. Her feet were stuck, but whatever was pulling was determined. Zobe screamed as she came free and fell out of the pile of balloons. When she opened her eyes she saw a kindly face looking down at her.

Ellie smiles and picks Zobe up. “You’re late,” she says, “but no worries.”

She turns to watch the game, but only a moment later the balloon tower topples over.

Everyone laughs and Ellie shouts out, “I think that’s enough Jenga for the moment. Now that everyone’s here, how ‘bout a game of scrabble?” 

ch8) later 7.30pm

“Now that everyone’s here, how ‘bout a game of scrabble?”

Nobody is massively keen on this idea, but the party is only just starting and they’re all feeling too polite to argue. So the scrabble sets come out and the guests get into groups of four to play. Zobe is with Ellie and two other ‘phants she doesn’t recognise. After a few moments she notices that she can make an eight-letter word! That’s pretty special, and she’d be getting rid of all her letters at once!

“H-U-N-T-S-M-A-N,” she says proudly, placing the letters down carefully. She begins to count up the score, and doesn’t notice the uncomfortable looks passing between the olifunts. Her next two goes aren’t a lot better (although she continues to be unaware that she is committing a faux-pas) as she spells out P-O-A-C-H-E-D and F-U-D-G-E. One of the other guests, who has decided to play scrabble phonetically, spells Z-I-L-O-F-O-N-E. Ellie is beginning to regret her suggestion, and her face begins to gradually redden. A few minutes later she snaps. Standing up to get everyone’s attention she says, just a little too brightly, “I think the hippos are wanting to go on the bopaline why don’t we join them?”

The elephiphants scramble excitedly to their feet. In the commotion Ellie pulls Zobe aside, looking serious… 

ch6) earlier 4.30pm

Licking her lips happily Zobe thanked Gladys again and walked towards the library. She pushed the revolving doors and stepped out the other side into a maze. Luckily it was only about 18 inches high so she found her way out quickly, jumped over the stream and hopped towards the manor house where an inspector was waiting for her.

“Professor Plum, left food red.”

She met him at the door and apologised for her lateness. The inspector looked grave and led her silently into the conservatory, where the body was found. Zobe put the wig on and thought hard.

“Miss Scarlet, right hand green.”

She walked, apparently aimlessly, around the room as the inspector watched her sceptically.

“Reverend Green, left hand blue.”

“Hmmm,” said Zobe.

“Mrs White, left foot red.”

She decided to have a look round the rest of the house and question some of the suspects, but after 20 minutes of this she still had no clue, so the narrator quietly slipped her a note. Zobe read this and ran back to the inspector.

“Colonel Cowardy Custard, right hand yellow.”

“It was Mrs. White, in the conservatory, with the piano!” she said, proudly.

“Mrs Peacock, tail feathers blue.”

Mrs. White looked up shocked from the twister mat and started shouting. “How dare you! What evidence have you got? I’ll call my lawyer! This is an absolute disgrace!” and other such exclamations.

Zobe said calmly, “I think, inspector, that you will find a piano in Mrs. White’s pocket, slightly damaged from the impact with the victim’s head.”

The inspector checked and by gum she was right! Another mystery solved. He threw the piano onto the couch as he handcuffed Mrs. White. As he left to take her to the station (they needed to catch the 18:32 to Exeter) he thanked Zobe for her help.

“You can go now, if you like. You’ve been a wonderful help.”

After he left she looked at the piano. It was pretty high quality, with genuine ivory keys. She slipped it in her pocket, hoping they wouldn’t need it for the investigation (also hoping that her eliphant friends at the party later wouldn’t see it), and went outside.

“Spider Malice, all eight feet blue.” 

ch9) later 8.25pm

The elephiphants scramble excitedly to their feet. In the commotion Ellie pulls Zobe aside, looking serious.

She speaks quietly, not wanting to be overheard or cause any embarrassment. “Zobe… there’s something I really need to ask you.” She begins.

#Moi je joue
Moi je joue à joue contre joue…#

Zobe sees the frown on her face and motions for her to carry on. “Well…it’s just that…you know the wig you were wearing when you first got here? Well, it kind of belongs to Al. He loves that wig, and he couldn’t understand where it had gone earlier.”

#…Je veux jouer à joue contre vous
Mais vous, le voulez-vous?…#

She pauses for a second to fend off the crows trying to eat her tail, and continues in a whisper barely audible over the sound of the hippos’ mmbopalining and singing behind them. “What happened to it today? It looked so scraggy! Some people don’t understand, like we elephants do, that wigs need to be cared for properly. I hope you haven’t been maltreating it.”

#…De tout coeur
Je veux gagner ce coeur à Coeur…#

Zobe is shocked to her very core. “I just…I didn’t mean to…I just thought it was a friendly wig!” she sputters, “I had no idea it belonged to Al. But I didn’t mistreat it. Honestly, Ellie, you have to believe me!”

#…Vous connaissez mon jeu par coeur
Alors défendez-vous…#

Ellie looks sympathetic. “OK, she says. I’m sure you didn’t mean any harm. You’re just a bit of an idiot – it’s not your fault.” She sighs. “What did you do to it though?”

Zobe tried to explain, “It helped me to fight a snake. I didn’t force it to, or anything, it just did. And then it came with me the rest of the day as well. There was nothing horrible. I don’t know. Please forgive me.”

Ellie is bored of Zobe’s whining, so she says not to worry about it and goes to join Jean-Luc (the hippo who has been singing frenchily all the while) on the bopaline. All the elephants are stood around it, their tails and trunks held high. There are a few murmurs as Ellie joins them, but the mmbopalining carries on uninterrupted.

She shakes her head and sighs as she wanders towards them. “I’ve never seen so much conformity amongst ollypants,” she mutters…