"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.
Sunday, December 31, 2006
Sunday, December 10, 2006
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.
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.
Thursday, December 07, 2006
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…
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…
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
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.
Sunday, November 12, 2006
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!)
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Saturday, October 28, 2006
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?”
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?”
Monday, October 23, 2006
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…
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…
Monday, October 16, 2006
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.”
“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.”
Saturday, October 07, 2006
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…
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…
Monday, October 02, 2006
ch5) earlier 3.20pm
“Good afternoon, dear,” said the old lady, “I don’t suppose you could help me across the road? I’m having a little difficulty. Not as quick as I once was.”
Zobe was a bit confused because there was absolutely no traffic on the road, but she didn’t want to make a fuss and agreed to help the old lady.
She introduced herself.
“Oh!” said the old woman, clapping her hands together in delight, “what a polite young lady you are! My name is Gladys. I’m very pleased to meet you.”
Zobe contemplated the road for a moment and took Gladys’ hand. “Pawn to King Four,” she said (predictably) and watched as the black knight jumped forwards in response.
Trying to plan ahead, and to ignore the large chainsaws that the opposition’s bishops were wielding, she stretched to see across the board. It seemed that she was contemplating the board for hours, but finally she remembered a special set of moves that her uncle had taught her when she was very young. They were guaranteed to win any game of chess. She struggled to remember the name of the moves. Ah yes! That was it. The Tche-ts. Employing them with deadly skill, she worked her way around the board with Gladys, and in just a few minutes they were standing safely on the other side of the road.
“Thank you so much,” said Gladys, “let me buy you an ice cream.”
Zobe was very pleased. The day was warm and the journey to the manor house was turning out to be quite tiring. She accepted the offer graciously.
Gladys turned and walked a few steps along the pavement, where she started speaking to thin air, apparently ordering two choc-ices. Zobe was about to step in and explain that there was no shop there when Gladys came back, holding out an ice cream.
Zobe decided not to bother, and enjoyed her creamy ice.
Zobe was a bit confused because there was absolutely no traffic on the road, but she didn’t want to make a fuss and agreed to help the old lady.
She introduced herself.
“Oh!” said the old woman, clapping her hands together in delight, “what a polite young lady you are! My name is Gladys. I’m very pleased to meet you.”
Zobe contemplated the road for a moment and took Gladys’ hand. “Pawn to King Four,” she said (predictably) and watched as the black knight jumped forwards in response.
Trying to plan ahead, and to ignore the large chainsaws that the opposition’s bishops were wielding, she stretched to see across the board. It seemed that she was contemplating the board for hours, but finally she remembered a special set of moves that her uncle had taught her when she was very young. They were guaranteed to win any game of chess. She struggled to remember the name of the moves. Ah yes! That was it. The Tche-ts. Employing them with deadly skill, she worked her way around the board with Gladys, and in just a few minutes they were standing safely on the other side of the road.
“Thank you so much,” said Gladys, “let me buy you an ice cream.”
Zobe was very pleased. The day was warm and the journey to the manor house was turning out to be quite tiring. She accepted the offer graciously.
Gladys turned and walked a few steps along the pavement, where she started speaking to thin air, apparently ordering two choc-ices. Zobe was about to step in and explain that there was no shop there when Gladys came back, holding out an ice cream.
Zobe decided not to bother, and enjoyed her creamy ice.
Saturday, September 30, 2006
ch10) later 9pm
“I’ve never seen so much conformity amongst ollypants” she mutters.
“Well you all look the same to us too” retorts oily (boing! Says the bopaline)
“There’s only one of me,” snaps Zobe, snappily “of course I look the same”
“I look completely different” squeaks Greg, hoping desperately that someone will pay attention to him.
“Shutup, echidna,” shouts Phil, counting out the notes, “you shouldn’t even be here, echidna’s can’t join our club”
“Squeak” squeaks the mouse (although possibly not the same mouse as before).
“And you can shut it too!” – that’s Phil again
There is a pause as everybody replays the conversation in their heads, trying to spot what didn’t quite fit.
I’ve never seen so much conformity… I look completely different… shutup, echidna… squeak … you can shut it too… wait! That was it!
The air turns 7 and a half degrees cooler, the silence broken only by the sound of a whole host of uliphants screaming at the top of their trunks and trying to jump on a chair (the bopaline is still occupied by the hippos). The sickening thud of elliefants colliding as they all choose the same chair is rivalled by the horrifying crunch of the chair as it collapses under so many ollyfents. However, they both pale into insignificance next to the tiny whine of an echidna caught in the worst possible place.
No, not Milton Keynes.
“What are they doing here?” comes the muffled voice of Olly from beneath a pile of wrinkled grey elephant.
“Oh, I invited them,” says Zobe, “they’d been locked up in a cage by some nasty people and were all lonely. I thought they could use a good party.”
“We know they were locked up,” replies Phil in a muffled roar, “we locked ‘em up there!”
“Squeak!” says a mouse, who is definitely neither of the mice who had squeaked already.
“I think there’s scope for some more randomness in this story,” says Ben.
“Always scope for more randomness” replies Jude
“What are you doing here?” asks Gimli.
“You can talk,” says Ben, “the mice have eaten you.”
“Squeak squeak!” squeaks a mouse, squeaking twice in case he doesn’t get another turn.
“Oh, good point,” replies Ben, “I haven’t written that part yet.
“ ,“ says Gimli, who has just caught up with the story and been eaten by the mice.
“Oh dear” says Zobe, “what have I done! I didn’t realise the mice were so evil!”
“We tried telling everybody” comes the still muffled voice of Olly, “but they never listen. Keep calling us scaredy-cats.”
“I’m a scaredy-cat,” squeaks a tiny voice from the corner of the room.
“Squeak” barks a mouse who’s already squeaked (although I’m not sure which one).
“Aaaaaarrrgh” screams the scaredy-cat timidly as it bolts from the room.
“ ,“ says Gimli, who isn’t adjusting well to having been eaten by evil mice.
“What’s that you say Gimli?” says Jude, “you have a rather frugal option for getting rid of mice that an old farmer told you about and it really does work? Did you say to use instant mashed potatoes, as they are much cheaper and a lot safer than rat poisons? We should place a few tablespoons where the mice are seen most often; try to keep them out of reach of the dog, just to be safe. The mice will eat the instant potatoes and die because the potatoes will expand in their stomachs before they can fully digest them? That’s an excellent suggestion!”
“I’ll get on with that whilst the story goes on,” says Ben.
“It’s ok Zobe,” says Phil, more gently, as he finally extricates (ooh look! big word!) himself from the heap of elephants. “We know you weren’t trying to upset us, we’ll forgive you.”
“Oh thank you,” says Zobe.
“That reminds me,” says Oily, “I’ve got a letter here addressed to Zobe wan Gavinci – any relation?”
“That’s me!” cries Zobe, forgetting to wonder what it is about the phrase “oh thank you” that reminded Oily about a letter.
Oily hands the letter over and Zobe eagerly rips it open. “You have won second prize in a beauty contest, do not pass goats, do not collect 200 llama points,” she reads, her jaw dropping in amazement. Well, it would do if she had a working jaw and not just a balloon head.
“In which case, I think we’d better get on with the SSAB prize ceremony” says Ellie, who hasn’t spoken recently because I’d forgotten her name. They sat down and Phil started the ceremony. Zobe fell asleep for a while and dreamed about pencil cases. When she woke up Phil was introducing a prize:
“In recognition of extreme bravery in the face (or whole body) of descending elephants, we’re letting our first echidna into the society. I know this is a little radical, but I feel we need to move with the times. So let’s have a big round of applause for Greg, a new member of the society. We have a special welcome balloon for you Greg…”
“Well you all look the same to us too” retorts oily (boing! Says the bopaline)
“There’s only one of me,” snaps Zobe, snappily “of course I look the same”
“I look completely different” squeaks Greg, hoping desperately that someone will pay attention to him.
“Shutup, echidna,” shouts Phil, counting out the notes, “you shouldn’t even be here, echidna’s can’t join our club”
“Squeak” squeaks the mouse (although possibly not the same mouse as before).
“And you can shut it too!” – that’s Phil again
There is a pause as everybody replays the conversation in their heads, trying to spot what didn’t quite fit.
I’ve never seen so much conformity… I look completely different… shutup, echidna… squeak … you can shut it too… wait! That was it!
The air turns 7 and a half degrees cooler, the silence broken only by the sound of a whole host of uliphants screaming at the top of their trunks and trying to jump on a chair (the bopaline is still occupied by the hippos). The sickening thud of elliefants colliding as they all choose the same chair is rivalled by the horrifying crunch of the chair as it collapses under so many ollyfents. However, they both pale into insignificance next to the tiny whine of an echidna caught in the worst possible place.
No, not Milton Keynes.
“What are they doing here?” comes the muffled voice of Olly from beneath a pile of wrinkled grey elephant.
“Oh, I invited them,” says Zobe, “they’d been locked up in a cage by some nasty people and were all lonely. I thought they could use a good party.”
“We know they were locked up,” replies Phil in a muffled roar, “we locked ‘em up there!”
“Squeak!” says a mouse, who is definitely neither of the mice who had squeaked already.
“I think there’s scope for some more randomness in this story,” says Ben.
“Always scope for more randomness” replies Jude
“What are you doing here?” asks Gimli.
“You can talk,” says Ben, “the mice have eaten you.”
“Squeak squeak!” squeaks a mouse, squeaking twice in case he doesn’t get another turn.
“Oh, good point,” replies Ben, “I haven’t written that part yet.
“ ,“ says Gimli, who has just caught up with the story and been eaten by the mice.
“Oh dear” says Zobe, “what have I done! I didn’t realise the mice were so evil!”
“We tried telling everybody” comes the still muffled voice of Olly, “but they never listen. Keep calling us scaredy-cats.”
“I’m a scaredy-cat,” squeaks a tiny voice from the corner of the room.
“Squeak” barks a mouse who’s already squeaked (although I’m not sure which one).
“Aaaaaarrrgh” screams the scaredy-cat timidly as it bolts from the room.
“ ,“ says Gimli, who isn’t adjusting well to having been eaten by evil mice.
“What’s that you say Gimli?” says Jude, “you have a rather frugal option for getting rid of mice that an old farmer told you about and it really does work? Did you say to use instant mashed potatoes, as they are much cheaper and a lot safer than rat poisons? We should place a few tablespoons where the mice are seen most often; try to keep them out of reach of the dog, just to be safe. The mice will eat the instant potatoes and die because the potatoes will expand in their stomachs before they can fully digest them? That’s an excellent suggestion!”
“I’ll get on with that whilst the story goes on,” says Ben.
“It’s ok Zobe,” says Phil, more gently, as he finally extricates (ooh look! big word!) himself from the heap of elephants. “We know you weren’t trying to upset us, we’ll forgive you.”
“Oh thank you,” says Zobe.
“That reminds me,” says Oily, “I’ve got a letter here addressed to Zobe wan Gavinci – any relation?”
“That’s me!” cries Zobe, forgetting to wonder what it is about the phrase “oh thank you” that reminded Oily about a letter.
Oily hands the letter over and Zobe eagerly rips it open. “You have won second prize in a beauty contest, do not pass goats, do not collect 200 llama points,” she reads, her jaw dropping in amazement. Well, it would do if she had a working jaw and not just a balloon head.
“In which case, I think we’d better get on with the SSAB prize ceremony” says Ellie, who hasn’t spoken recently because I’d forgotten her name. They sat down and Phil started the ceremony. Zobe fell asleep for a while and dreamed about pencil cases. When she woke up Phil was introducing a prize:
“In recognition of extreme bravery in the face (or whole body) of descending elephants, we’re letting our first echidna into the society. I know this is a little radical, but I feel we need to move with the times. So let’s have a big round of applause for Greg, a new member of the society. We have a special welcome balloon for you Greg…”
Sunday, August 20, 2006
interlude
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."
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."
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
Thursday, July 20, 2006
ch11) later 10pm
“…for Greg, a new member of the society. We have a special welcome balloon for you Greg! This year’s design is, I think you’ll agree, one of the most interesting we’ve ever had. The salmon pink and the mint go so beautifully together. Come on up, Greg.”
To deafening applause Greg walks to the front to receive his balloon.
“Congratulations!
“We are also awarding the second prize in our beauty contest - the mesmerising memorial balloon for services to beauty – to Zobe.”
Zobe blushes and hurries to the front. Treading in something warm and squishy, Zobe realizes with regret that she neglected to put on any shoes today.
“Treasure it most carefully and let it bask in your beauty. Truly this is the most amazing balloon ever.”
“So what was the first prize then, if this is the most amazing balloon ever?” asks Zobe.
Confused, the alifonts look at each other. “We’ve never actually awarded a first prize,” mutters Phil, shuffling self-conciously.
There is an awkward silence.
“And for everybody here today we have a golden SSAB (secret society for the appreciation of balloons) 20th anniversary balloon. These really are something else.”
He hands out the shiny balloons with glee. There is a lot of pushing and shoving and treading on each others' feet. But eventually it seems that everyone has one.
“OK!” shouts Phil, over the chattering, “it’s time for the jelly and ice cream. Who wants?”
To deafening applause Greg walks to the front to receive his balloon.
“Congratulations!
“We are also awarding the second prize in our beauty contest - the mesmerising memorial balloon for services to beauty – to Zobe.”
Zobe blushes and hurries to the front. Treading in something warm and squishy, Zobe realizes with regret that she neglected to put on any shoes today.
“Treasure it most carefully and let it bask in your beauty. Truly this is the most amazing balloon ever.”
“So what was the first prize then, if this is the most amazing balloon ever?” asks Zobe.
Confused, the alifonts look at each other. “We’ve never actually awarded a first prize,” mutters Phil, shuffling self-conciously.
There is an awkward silence.
“And for everybody here today we have a golden SSAB (secret society for the appreciation of balloons) 20th anniversary balloon. These really are something else.”
He hands out the shiny balloons with glee. There is a lot of pushing and shoving and treading on each others' feet. But eventually it seems that everyone has one.
“OK!” shouts Phil, over the chattering, “it’s time for the jelly and ice cream. Who wants?”
Monday, July 10, 2006
ch03) earlier 12.00pm
In square 41 she found herself outside of a police station, facing a flustered looking detective. Who, unusually, suddenly brightened up at the sight of Zobe.
“’Ello, ‘ello, ‘ello,” he said, “ it’s not often one sees a lovely young lady walking around such a fetching pet wig. I don’t suppose you’d be available this afternoon to help the police a bit?”
Zobe considered all the things she had planned to do with her day. Things like wandering round aimlessly and shouting at pigeons.
She decided to sacrifice this day of fun to help protect her fellow man.
“I’ll do it!” she said. The detective told her there had been a murder at the manor house, and gave her directions and a map! (no corners cut in this story!)
Zobe and her wig smiled at the detective and promised to do their best. They set off together with an air of adventure and excitement around them.
After going the second left, first right, right at the traffic lights, left by the big tree, round the roundabout, across the river (without a bridge or a boat), along the third fork and right into the wood… Zobe spotted something very worrying. There was a strange contraption just at the side of the road. With a slight sense of foreboding, Zobe decided to investigate.
“Oh no!” she exclaimed, “you poor things!”
The mice were just skin and bone, trapped for weeks, it seemed, in these tiny cages. Zobe tried to get lift the cages but there was a complicated locking mechanism. She walked around, hoping to find a clue (‘cos she didn’t have one) and, much to her surprise, found Gimli trapped in one of the cages, his axe thrown into a nearby bush. Zobe picked it up and with great strength and even greater accuracy cut through the cage and set the dwarf free. He was not as thankful as one might have expected. But he did help Zobe to get the mice out. She did not use the axe to cut them loose. That would have been too easy. Instead, she and Gimli constructed a highly elaborate device from an old stop sign, a boot, a bucket, a drainpipe, a helping hand, a crank, a diving board and diver, a gutter, a staircase and a ball bearing.
Having realised too late that they had walked straight into a trap, they used Gimli’s laser beam eyesight to cut their way free and let the mice out too.
Quite why Gimli had sat in the cage for such a long time when he had laser beam eyesight nobody is sure. Perhaps he just wanted to meet Zobe. And who could blame him, she’s such a lovely balloon-headed doll.
“’Ello, ‘ello, ‘ello,” he said, “ it’s not often one sees a lovely young lady walking around such a fetching pet wig. I don’t suppose you’d be available this afternoon to help the police a bit?”
Zobe considered all the things she had planned to do with her day. Things like wandering round aimlessly and shouting at pigeons.
She decided to sacrifice this day of fun to help protect her fellow man.
“I’ll do it!” she said. The detective told her there had been a murder at the manor house, and gave her directions and a map! (no corners cut in this story!)
Zobe and her wig smiled at the detective and promised to do their best. They set off together with an air of adventure and excitement around them.
After going the second left, first right, right at the traffic lights, left by the big tree, round the roundabout, across the river (without a bridge or a boat), along the third fork and right into the wood… Zobe spotted something very worrying. There was a strange contraption just at the side of the road. With a slight sense of foreboding, Zobe decided to investigate.
“Oh no!” she exclaimed, “you poor things!”
The mice were just skin and bone, trapped for weeks, it seemed, in these tiny cages. Zobe tried to get lift the cages but there was a complicated locking mechanism. She walked around, hoping to find a clue (‘cos she didn’t have one) and, much to her surprise, found Gimli trapped in one of the cages, his axe thrown into a nearby bush. Zobe picked it up and with great strength and even greater accuracy cut through the cage and set the dwarf free. He was not as thankful as one might have expected. But he did help Zobe to get the mice out. She did not use the axe to cut them loose. That would have been too easy. Instead, she and Gimli constructed a highly elaborate device from an old stop sign, a boot, a bucket, a drainpipe, a helping hand, a crank, a diving board and diver, a gutter, a staircase and a ball bearing.
Having realised too late that they had walked straight into a trap, they used Gimli’s laser beam eyesight to cut their way free and let the mice out too.
Quite why Gimli had sat in the cage for such a long time when he had laser beam eyesight nobody is sure. Perhaps he just wanted to meet Zobe. And who could blame him, she’s such a lovely balloon-headed doll.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
ch12) later 10.40pm
“OK!” shouts Phil, “it’s time for the jelly and ice cream. Who wants?”
Alliefonts are ice cream loving fools, so everyone at the party leaps up at these words and rushes towards Al, who is standing by the freezer. He opens the door and gasps, “the ice cream has gone!”
Phil turns to the crowd with a thunderous expression on his face.
“Who has eaten ice cream today without asking?” he demands. “It must be someone we know or the ice cream princess would not have taken the sacrifice from our freezer. Own up!!!”
There is nothing to be heard except the sound of shuffling feet and a few nervous coughs. Eventually Zobe steps forwards.
“I’m so sorry,” she says, shakily, “I don’t understand. I don’t know anything about an ice cream princess… But I did eat some ice cream today. It was given to me by an old lady today called Gladys.”
“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK THAT NAME!!!!” cries Phil, but on seeing that her confusion is genuine he tries to explain. “We elephants are the keepers of the ice cream, and the woman of whom you speak is our arch enemy. You are a silly child to be taken in by her.”
He pauses for a moment and his face softens. “But you did not know,” he says, “and you seem sorry now. Do not make the same mistake again.”
He turns away, and without another word Al starts serving up dishes of jelly. No one grumbles, and they sit down together to enjoy the end of the party. The balloons have all gone slightly limp and wrinkly (a bit like the elifants) but no one has really noticed. The sun is still hot and the jelly is wibbling peacefully…
Alliefonts are ice cream loving fools, so everyone at the party leaps up at these words and rushes towards Al, who is standing by the freezer. He opens the door and gasps, “the ice cream has gone!”
Phil turns to the crowd with a thunderous expression on his face.
“Who has eaten ice cream today without asking?” he demands. “It must be someone we know or the ice cream princess would not have taken the sacrifice from our freezer. Own up!!!”
There is nothing to be heard except the sound of shuffling feet and a few nervous coughs. Eventually Zobe steps forwards.
“I’m so sorry,” she says, shakily, “I don’t understand. I don’t know anything about an ice cream princess… But I did eat some ice cream today. It was given to me by an old lady today called Gladys.”
“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK THAT NAME!!!!” cries Phil, but on seeing that her confusion is genuine he tries to explain. “We elephants are the keepers of the ice cream, and the woman of whom you speak is our arch enemy. You are a silly child to be taken in by her.”
He pauses for a moment and his face softens. “But you did not know,” he says, “and you seem sorry now. Do not make the same mistake again.”
He turns away, and without another word Al starts serving up dishes of jelly. No one grumbles, and they sit down together to enjoy the end of the party. The balloons have all gone slightly limp and wrinkly (a bit like the elifants) but no one has really noticed. The sun is still hot and the jelly is wibbling peacefully…
Friday, June 23, 2006
ch02) earlier 10.30am
Zobe went downstairs and into the kitchen, closely followed by a small friendly cat called Mr. Kibbles. In the kitchen Zobe rolled the dice with eager anticipation, and much to her delight she found herself climbing up a ladder to number 34, having narrowly avoided a boa constrictor in number 32. She hadn’t yet noticed the Mexican grass snake occupying square 35, but we don’t need to worry about that for a little while.
She found an invitation on the billiards table:
“Do we need to establish that Ellie, Ollie, Oily et al. are elephantes?” inquired Ben.
“Yeh I guess so,” replies Judy, resigned now to the inevitable interruptions.
THEY ARE ELEPHANTS. It’s also useful to note at this point that all eliphants are balloon fanatics and have a network of secret balloon societies throughout the world. Balloons add meaning to an olifent’s life and are the reason they are usually so calm and peaceful.
“OK, it’s established….
“ooh, except that al isn’t an illyfunkt. He’s a croc!” exclaimed Judy.
“Oh yes, sorry,” said Ben, “easy mistake to make.”
This is true. Al is, after all, a master of disguise. It’s the wig that does it.
The wig, which is excitable even at the best of times, leapt up from Al’s head and into square 34 where it encountered Zobe. “Hello!” she said, “I’ve always wanted a pet!” she caught the wig and tied a lead onto it. The wig was not impressed, but its random flailings were very useful for fighting the snake in the next square, so Zobe could continue unafraid.
Squeak said the mice.
She found an invitation on the billiards table:
“Calling all balloons and balloon enthusiasts!
We are having a party today, and would love it if you could come.
Its at 7 o’clock in the zoo. Hope you can make it, lots of love from Ellie, Ollie, Oily and Phil.”
“Do we need to establish that Ellie, Ollie, Oily et al. are elephantes?” inquired Ben.
“Yeh I guess so,” replies Judy, resigned now to the inevitable interruptions.
THEY ARE ELEPHANTS. It’s also useful to note at this point that all eliphants are balloon fanatics and have a network of secret balloon societies throughout the world. Balloons add meaning to an olifent’s life and are the reason they are usually so calm and peaceful.
“OK, it’s established….
“ooh, except that al isn’t an illyfunkt. He’s a croc!” exclaimed Judy.
“Oh yes, sorry,” said Ben, “easy mistake to make.”
This is true. Al is, after all, a master of disguise. It’s the wig that does it.
The wig, which is excitable even at the best of times, leapt up from Al’s head and into square 34 where it encountered Zobe. “Hello!” she said, “I’ve always wanted a pet!” she caught the wig and tied a lead onto it. The wig was not impressed, but its random flailings were very useful for fighting the snake in the next square, so Zobe could continue unafraid.
Squeak said the mice.
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