George Shambles' Day at the Library

George Shambles' Day at the Library

Written by Michael Shambles & George Shambles

Before I begin, I'd like to thank a few people. I'd like to thank Bobby Hunt from the local library for not getting too upset when I returned the book, 'Top 10 Teas that start with T' three days too late.
I know we didn't talk much, but your understanding lead me to oggle your name tag and mention you in this story.
Usually that lady with the dark hair is quite rude to me when I return books late, “She says, HOW DARE YOU GEORGE!” She likes to exaggerate. So do I. She's never really said that, I'm so sorry Imogen Perkins, I meant no harm and I'll be sure to keep your identity secretive.

If I'm completely honest, Imogen gave me a bit of a grumpy glare and then moved on. But for the rest of that day I was sat slurping my tea noisily in upset.

This week, while I was in the garden watering the pumpkins and feeding the Flamingos, it suddenly dawned on me. 'Top 10 Teas that start with T' was still on my bedside table, chaps. Not only that, I'd left my little light on. So I ran upstairs (I walked), crashed through my bedroom door! (I opened it gently, didn't even creak.) And I went for a nap on my bed. It was very comfortable you see. The duvet was so cosy and warm.

It was raining outside and I was just ready to slip into dream land. There was absolutely no other option.

Three days later I picked up the book and caught the bus to the library, dreading I'd see that nasty nameless woman again! Luckily for me, the sun was shining that day and Bobby Hunt was stood at the desk waiting for an old man to stumble through those electronic doors.

Can we just talk about those electronic doors for one second please? So on most occasions, they know when I have arrived. It's very good of them, I always tip my hat to the robots if I'm wearing a hat that day.

But sometimes, perhaps I step too far or too soon... sometimes the doors do not open. First I wonder, “Gosh, is the Library closed? That's very inconsistent with their window sign." I even check my personal folded up calendar I keep in my trousers. It's quite a big calendar, folded seven times down to a pocket fitting size. But once it's unravelled, blimey, it'll cover a whole Town Hall pinup board. The calendar answered none of my queries.

My next thought, after continued ignorance from the door ghosts, was “Am I banned?”

The problem is chaps, after one or six late book returns, who knows what these Libraries are capable of? I thought, 'Right! That Imogen has locked the doors for good. No more books for George.'

Just a little bit of information about myself before we move on. Sometimes, I like to not take the books out, but instead stick a little bookmark in it and put it back on the shelf. Problem is, I then forget which books I've read. Who knows how many books are ravaged by my bookmarks by now? Scattered across the bookshelves like a load of old books in a library full off bookmarks.

I thought this could well be the reason for this despicable shut down of my rights.

It turns out, the doors just do that sometimes. I was let in and took my book to the front desk.

Bobby was there, hardly even out of school he was. His face looked like a handful of freshly cut grass blades had been distributed delicately over a slice of pizza. He said he liked my pink jumper, I told him he should get one. Highly fashionable In 2020. He said he would think about it and took the library book from my giving hands.

“Ah George Shambles. Great name. You know this book is three days late?”

I pondered for a moment, could I perhaps use the dementia card? Yes quite an idea, George!

I replied, “Sorry sir, I seem to have left my dementia card AT HOME.” I winked at Bobby for a minute or two and waited for a response.

He stood in front of me, confusion creasing up his face like a wet sponge. “Oh...”

“That's okay George, it will just be a very small fee and you'll be on your way to borrowing more books.”

Bobby was a wonderful chap. IS a wonderful chap, and I'll never forget that delightful gesture he gave to me.

'Top 10 Ts that start with a T' was successfully returned and I was ready to stick my bookmark in the next unsuspecting gardening publication.

By the way, the question on everyone's lips is ,"George, what did you think of the book?" I thought it was very interesting. I'm not sure I would have gone for Tiramisu Tea as number one myself, but at least Turkey Tea came above Tissue Tea in the final countdown. If I were to write the book, I'd have shot Torchlight Tea RIGHT to the top, due to it's glow in the dark characteristics.  

Thank you for reading my short story, “George Shambles' Day at the Library”. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed living it and then telling my grandson to write it all down.

• George Shambles

Nathan of Crayblock (A Short Story)

Someone turned the music off... while I was still listening to it. It was a really good song, one of those ones that prepares your ears for a smooth transition into something quite delightful. But anyway, that's all gone. I hope I don't get a headache from that abrupt ending. All I could hear now was an icecream van play tunes in the distance.

Usually, I'd get pretty excited about that. ICECREAM! But you know, I can tell by the drifting melody that I'd never reach it in time. I'd run and run and I'd just see it soar off around some side street. Just like every single day when I miss the bus.
Anyway, someone turned the music off. Actually, I was alone. So no one there actually could have done it. My wifi was still connected so that was not at fault. I put total blame on Spotify! Of course I do. They probably wanted to throw an advert in there, begging me to give them some real moneys. The advert most likely glitched out and boom! music stopped.
But no, I was wrong.

Actually, I was right. The internet just cut a bit and then the music started again. Ha, I made that all sound way dramatic. It really was not that dramatic. But it did make me realise one, very important thing. I really wanted icecream.
So I went outside my house, locked the door behind me, realised I'd forgotten my money, went back in.... out again. Blah Blah Blah. The sun was going down now so it was like, URH Soon I won't be able to see. I was wearing my glasses you see, (Get it, SEE). Anyway, they are really old, I'd had them since I was like 12. Because of this, the lenses were incorrect for my deteriorating eyeballs. I usually wore updated contact lenses. But that day, I was slack.

And I heard this manic laughing come from behind me. It was from the house behind me (Which was mine because I was out the front of my house). But then I realised it was actually coming from the house BEHIND MY house. I made that uneventful event sound way too eventful.

I thought, that's odd. Who on earth would laugh so loudly and so embaressingly?
Then a man ran out from behind, laughing. I could tell from his laugh that he was from New Zealand. Though, that may have been the background sound of the icecream van's song mixing with the sound waves of his roaring screams (of fun). I'm getting off topic... AND FAST.

He stopped when he saw me, stopped laughing.. and stopped running. Stopped dead in his tracks and pebbles went in his sandles. He was going to regret not slowing down at a nice calm pace once that pebble started irrtating his foot. I did not say anything about the pebble, it was not my place to start stressing people out with nonsense ramblings.
"DIDN'T YOU HEAR? GOD'S JUST APPEARED! IT'S ALL OVER THE NEWS!" Whoa! He screamed in my ear. He seemed delighted actually.
"Hi, I'm Nathan." I said cautiously.
"HI NATHAN! YOU SHOULD GET INSIDE."
"Hi.. Um yeah, no I'm going to get icecream."
"Well, I've got icecream. Why don't you come in my house?" He asked.
"No. I... No, I don't go in strangers houses. What do you mean, God has appeared?"
"It's all over the news! It's on the BBC News! It's on the CNN and the SKY Sports News! It's on ITV and ABC and The Daily Mail! and all the important ones and NONE of the fake news sites."
"Now listen here, strange man that lives in the house behind my house... You standing here telling me that God has appeared and that it's not on any fake news sites is the equivalent of me actually reading a FAKE news site."
"Hey mate, I'm just trying to help. No need to get all up in my face about it. I was an Atheist yesterday and now I definitely believe in the letter A. AND GOD."

He was breathing heavily, his eyes were getting larger and larger, but not in any inhuman way. Don't get me wrong, you've most likely seen someone act like this before. He wasn't alien or anything. He was just your regular run of the mill crazy person. Uh.. from New Zealand. I'm not going to make any jokes about New Zealand people, they made that wonderful King Kong movie so no faults I say!

"So what did the newspapers say about God then?" I asked.
"Not the newspapers. This is very recent. The newspapers won't get the news until tomorrow." he replied.
"Oh yeah. Ok, So what did the online news say?" But before he could acknowledge what I'd said, he was off on another one...
"Oh no.. there it is again...." He started getted sidetracked. His pupils were dancing up and down... and his ears were twitching!" (Not streaming)
"What?" I asked.
"The icecream van music. God said, If we hear it for too long, we'll turn into dead people!"
"ZOMBIES?"
"No.. just dead people. We'll die. The icecream van music will kill us."

Ok, I'd had enough at this point, and the more this nut-case said the word 'icecream', the more I yearned for some.
"Ok, thank you. I have to go now."
I waved a goodbye and headed off down the street.
But I was not alone for long. The guy from next door was following me, doing this creepy walk. 'Patter' 'patter', light footed, like a cartoon burglar. Plus, more people starting drifting out of their homes and walking beside me.
I stopped and turned around. I was feeling rather scared really, what if they were part of some kids knife gang? Did they exist? Probably. My mind flashed back to when the Seventh Doctor got shot by some adults in the Doctor Who Movie. Then it occured to me how irrelevent that was ... not knives... guns.. not kids.. adults...
"Excuse me, you guys ok?" I asked them. There was about 10 I could count. Including one small child with her mother.
They all glared at me with worried faces. Maybe they were worried that they were all going to stab me?
"YOU HAVE TO GO IN YOUR HOUSE NATHAN!" It was the mother that shouted at me.
"YES! RETURN HOME CHAP!" This was a wonderfully posh man with a top hat and a cane. But not in any weird way. He was just trying to be real cool. But I'd seen him out and about at gigs and art gallerys, he just could never find a place to settle. So OF COURSE he'd join the mum and new zealand guy in this ubsurd little street group they'd set up. Groupaholic!
"Ok, I don't know what you guys all want. But all I WANT... IS ICECREAM!"
The kid giggled and asked, "What flavour, mister?"
"Not sure yet, cookies and cream? Mint choc chip? Plain ol chocolate? Maybe even toffee!"
The mother tripped up the child so it landed flat on it's face. "DON'T YOU TALK TO THE NICE MAN!" The mother shouted at the girl, spit spiraling out of her mouth. "I LOVE YOU CHILD, BUT YOU ARE NOT WORTHY."

This struck a nerve for me, for one, what she said made no sense and for two, you should not trip over your own child in most circumstances. "Hey! Don't do that!" was the only thing that came out of my mouth.
"I'm sorry 'Nathan, of CrayBlock'. I will never trip over my daughter again. For you." The woman pleaded on her knees.
"For HER you mean! And don't do that, you'll hurt your knees. The road is real bumpy and hard. Anyway. I appreciate all of this weird, I mean.. nice supportive stuff you keep saying to me but I really must be off."
I waved at the woman, the posh chap and smiled awkwardly at the New Zealand man. His nod was mechanical.

Of course the moment I turned around, a new face was in my face. A wrinkly old face, a wise woman's face. Or at least she sounded wise by the way she spoke. But I'm pretty sure dumb people
can have wise voices as well.
"Nathan of Crayblock, you must stay in your house. Away from the sound. God said you are the only one that can save us from this musical virus."
I sighed.. in my mind.
"Ok, Woman of ... the dustbin. What on earth is CRAYBLOCK? And if this icecream van music is SO BAD then why are none of YOU in your houses keeping safe?"

The wise woman nodded and with a calming notion, waved her hand toward the other folk. "Lord Nathan of Crayblock is correct. It is foolish of us to all risk our lives trying to save his. Especially with the child."
The mother just laughed.
The wise woman continued, "I want everyone to return to their homes while I remain."
And with that, 9 out of 10 neighbourhood nobodies left me and went back to their stupid homes and left me a blummin lone! Just that wise woman left then.

"Hey, thanks for that. I owe you one, how did you get all of them to leave anyway?".
"I am the owner at the community hall. I suppose they are just used to me talking for them at the podium. Haha, I moan a lot you know. About pot holes and people wearing offensive clothing in the town. It's all very offensive to me."
"Oh ok. Well thanks again, I'll be on my way now to the shop."
"I'm sorry Nathan of Crayblock, but that is impossible. You MUST return home. You've most likely already heard the icecream van music too much. If you do not return NOW, YOU WILL DIE."

And then I noticed the most horrible, annoying thing I could ever have noticed.... the sun had gone down. And you remember that thing I said about my eyesight? Yeah. I was stuck with a weird old woman with no real idea of how to get to the shop. My surroundings had become a blurred palette of colour. I was blind... mostly. Something about the night time just doesn't agree with my eyes.

"Ok... well, I've missed my chance to get to the shop now. So.. Great. Thanks. I Guess.. Damn it, I guess I'll just have to go home. I'll have nightmares and.. and I'll hate you and I'll hate myself and all I wanted was icecream and you took it away from me. I hope you feel happy old woman. I hope you, and your little neighbourhood pals all feel real proud of themselves. GOOD BYE!"

So I turned away in a huff, went home and slammed the blummin door behind me. WHAT A NIGHT.

So anyway, when I woke up in the morning God was on my sofa.
"Oh.. hey God."
"Hey."
"So you really appeared?"
"Yeah."
"Why are you on my sofa, God?"
"You don't know? Do you not even read the news?"
"Not really. Sometimes I'll read headlines. But the news is way depressing."
"That's true. Not my fault though." God shifted in the chair.
"I'm glad you cleared that up."

By the way, don't leave a comment on this post asking if God was a man or a woman ok? I have no idea what God was. What I saw on the sofa was a glowing feeling of power and the voice seemed to be my own minds voice with an echo effect added in audacity.
God smiled at me and then frowned, and then smiled. It was all very confusing. "So you left an old woman to die last night, Nathan."
"WHAT?"
"That old woman, you kept her outside so long the icecream van's music ripped her ears out, She's outside, no one has cleaned it up yet."
"That's horrible.....I.. feel so responsible."
"All because you don't read the news, Nathan." And that was the moment I got told by God.

"Ok, so what was all this about you on the news then? Why are you back? What's this stupid icecream van nonsense??"

God asked me to sit down so I could settle in for a rollercoaster of a story. But it ended up being pretty short actually.
God spoke, "Satan now owns all of the icecream vans in the world. His icecream van music will kill anyone that hears it for too long. You almost died last night. Which would have been a great tragedy because Nathan, you are The One."
"Like Keanu Reeves?"
"No, Nathan of Crayblock. You are Nathan of Crayblock."
"What does that even mean?"

God was really grumpy that I never read the news. Apparently he had explained everything in a dramatic speech on top of a mountain, everyone was there. He'd contacted all of the worlds media himself!

"Do you even know how many babies Princess Kate has had so far?" God asked me.
"No."
"FOR GODS SAKE NATHAN!"
"Jesus..."
"This story is all kinds of sacrilege." (I have no idea which one of us said that line.. possibly because of the mind voice confusion thing.)
"Basically, Nathan. For years now you have been stuck in a whirlwind of Creative Block. Am I right?"
"God yes. I have had so much trouble creating things, animations and such for so long. My drive for it has hit such a dead end. It's been depressing, it's been tough."
"Yeah, wah wah wah. That is because, all of this time. Your creative energy has been building to create one massive explosion that will wipe out all of the icecream vans in the world!"
"That sounds horrible, why would I want to destroy icecream vans?"
"Because Satan is in all of them."
"Oh man...But I love icecream. And although the icecream in icecream vans is always a bit disappointing, I would never want to destory them all."

I had a dilemma on my hands. Losing icecream vans, or everyone dies forever and Hell rises to Earth.. Hmm

"So, if I do this... If I use this Creative Block power, will I finally get my creative surge back? Will I be able to jump right back into doing what I always loved for so so long?"
God said "NO."

And I decided to save the world anyway, because that's the kind of guy I am. I mean, no more icecream vans and still no creativity but hey. people are alive. Annoying people like that guy in the house behind me with that weird laugh. And that wannabe posh guy and that mum that trips over her kid. Yeah, lots of annoying and horrible people are still alive because of me. And Donald Trump is gonna be president.

Maybe I should have just let the world die with Satan.. uh..

Oh and if you were wondering. The Creative Block mind explosion felt exactly like a brain freeze.


- Nathan

Harry Workington

Hello, my name is Harry Workington. I am 83 years old and have a wonderful house. It is very cosy, there is a fireplace, a coffee table and a smooth surface on the kitchen counters. I try not to scrape them and dust them regular-like.

I go to the local bakery every Thursday and buy myself a meat pie. Jonathan Wood works at the bakery, he and Mr. Thistle work night and day baking the best produce for our little street.

Ethal George lives across the road from me, shes got a bump in her tummy this week. Jonathan says it's all the bread she'd been buying, I says its a new baby girl or boy.

Jonathan says he wonders who the father might be, maybe his boss, Terry Thistle. Ethal had visited the bakery a lot recently, maybe to see Terry?

I asked Jonathan if he had heard about Old Ricky Wiggs from number 21, how he'd sadly passed away last night. Left his lonely house to a cold, bored dog to look after.

I suggested my son, Laurence Workington take the dog as his own. Laurence was having none of it, his last wife cheated on him with a sea lion you see, a female sea lion. So animals and such, or anything a little bit out of his comfort zone were a no go for my son.

"How did he die?" Asked Jonathan

It was a nasty event, Ricky got his leg stuck in his dog door, so Miss Perkins chopped it off. Old Wiggs lost so much blood he'd died before the ambulance had arrived.

"I'm flabbergasted" Says Jonathan. "I'd have never thought of Miss Perkins being able to do such a thing to a leg."

I told him that she was a practising surgeon, she was trying to impress Terry Thistle, but unfortunately she'd only studied two books. She tried to squeeze the wound with her hands but it just squirted out more blood. She used toilet paper in the end but the red just soaked through. The blood was all down the pebbles.

"What about Miss George then, think she is pregnant with a baby girl or boy? Either it is Terry or the Postman, what was his name? ... Mar.."

Mart Mekelly, yes there was him, and he stunk! He used to creep into my garden and steal apples from our apple tree. He deserved what he got.

"What happened to him? Mr. Workington?"

Well, i says to him, you knows that woman at number 3 that always throws children's shoes up on the electric wire? He nodded, well she threw Mart up there as well, he could not get down for a week. Ethal George was laughing at him in his face.

"Oh how terrible"

I told him about Daniels Workington, my grandson, son of Laurence and how he wanted to be an artist when he was older. I says there's no work in that dear boy I said, them artists never worked an honest day in their lives. As for you Jonathan, you're a woods, your families been cutting down trees for centuries, until now of course. But baking is sure a worthy profession. I don't agree with such things as Justin Baby, the singer. He blummin never worked a day his life.

Jonathan agreed with me, he is a hard working honest chap, Jonathan.

I told my grandson, I saids you're a Workington, we got our name for exactly that, being hard workers. It's a good profession being a worker, so stick to it dear boy.

Well, I'm open to new things, I'm a modern man, a bit old, but the wrinkles are all a lady wants at this age I'm sure. I've never dyed my hair, I know the ladies like to re-make their old colours before theys went all grey but I look good in my sharp white hair. I believe a person respects a man like me, in a waistcoat, walking stick in hand. Mr. Shovwell, (Came from a long line of Shovwells) said I looked the part of a good, friendly, funny grandpa.

Then he said, shame I was not that, give the look back to a nicer guy.

Jonathan handed me the meat pie and I said my goodbyes and hellos to Mr. Thistle who was busy in the back room baking.

Monkey Bus (A sort of poem thing)

Monkey Bus

Just checking everyone still has their tickets. No excuses here or there, not there or anywhere. If you've lost it down the sofa, lounge, or by gopher. Common be dog, or the wind, it's evil claws and swift fin. There is no way to claim, your ticket fell down the drain, because in the end we all know you are liars.
Spot one, spot them all, a scarf and a black cape, a mole and a shower cap. A liar here, there, every place we turn. Without a ticket there is no entrance, no eyes to read, no heart to love our foul foul words of wisdom.
Without a ticket you stand, bland, in a puddle of shame on the sidewalk, pavement, lane, crying in pain, you've not been framed, you've just been thick. As a brick, with no tick on my clipboard, no seat for your butt. No space for your cigarettes, you've just got bad luck. No shoulder by the window, no sunny outside, no mother of baby, no runaway bride. No fat man sitting, no magician with a box. Your eyes will be just fixed, on the door as it locks.
With no ticket you'll just stand here, alone and forgotten. You'll be in the rain, cold and feeling all rotten.
I got no reason, no feeling to care, you've got no pity from anyone, not anywhere. Your mum ironed your ticket, your fire ate it up, your monkey shredded it or you drank it in your favourite cup.
There is no inside, no warm safety now, you needs to keep your head on straight fool. Don't be a smelly cow. Look where you are going, write down some lists, Even when it is snowing, concentrate on your fists.
Don't run here, there playing cricket, vomiting chunks of laze. Just remember your prickly ticket! And avoid that really complicated maze.

Now run away foul monster, you've made a fool of yourself. Go sit in a dustbin aching, dribbling in the filth. There is no place for you here, you were never tall. And call up the next failure, this lines getting small.

Trouble in the dusty town of Squelchford

Twas a hairy night in Squelchford and a time of year worthy of celebration. Mr. Blechqwaff and Mrs. Michepogs were both planting mystical red seeds into the dirty clumps of the haunted mine. In three mighty years four glowing royal flowers will grow from the rippled soil of the mines floors.
These flowers will ooze a beautiful perfume that will cure the people of Squelchford of the mass disease, 'The Dreaded Cold'. This disease has jumped from one victim to another over the last week, bringing four deaths to the people.
"Fred Wilbert Henry the Flurge was a young and very brave man. A son and mother and father and uncle to at least seven fat children of the north. "
These words were spoken at one of the victim's funerals of pain and suffering.

KAZAM!!!
"MIGHTY WARRIORS FROM YOUR FUTURE! I, am Benson Green."
"ME? WHY I AM MIGHTY WARRIOR Peke Sheif. We come in peace little people."
The two magical warriors stared down at the small fat children of Fred Wilbert.
One child said this, "In the future, what is to happen to our people? Do the magical medicine flowers finally bring their mega power upon Squelchford?"
Peke smiled, "THEY DO."
"And are we all saved from death?"
Benson stepped in, "I CAN Answer that one young child."
"Go ahead then."
"Everyones gunna die of the Cold. Sorry."
The fat children alll began to cry.
"Yeah.. the flowers take three years to bring forth their medicine. But cold kills everyone in like, a week. So its like..."
Peke burst in, "Da maths just don't add up chakow?"
"Guhyeah."
"Guhyah."
"uhuh"
"Yeeaaah."
"OH yeah."
"No yeah."
"Nowaaaaay."
"Woahwaaay."
"Poootaaaaaaay"
"Potaaattoo."
"what?"
"Potaa... sorry Benson. I got a bit carried away there."
"That is ok Peke, after all, its the kids that are going to die."
"I say it is because they eat so much, makes the Cold want to eat up their lunches... which is in their stomachs, you know?"
"Peke, the kids are standing right there. Watch what you say..."
"Oh sorry Benson, sometimes you are pretty smart when it comes to my social disability."
"I know, deal with it. But seriously those kids are pretty obese."
"Benson!"
"Sorry. It's getting late. Should we head back to our own time?"
"Yeah sure, 1995?"
"Yep. So long Squelchford."
KAZAM

The Two Detectives in Blood on the Railway (Story)

The Two Detectives in
Blood on the Railway

Two subtle figures stood close by a recent crime scene, Detective Michael Encyclopaedia and Forensic Investigator Freud Lo-hurt. Michael placed his hand on his old black hat and shuffled it slightly, watching various members of the police force scatter along the railway.
Freud settled his glasses on his nose and stood quietly in thought. The sun was slowly going down in this deserted location. With a light cold wind rushing through and creating waves in the tall dead grass. Michael sniffed, looked behind him then turned back to Freud. “Guy was hit by a train... suicide, accident. Why do they want us? I should be in bed.”
Freud frowned in reply, “I only know as much as you Michael. Let's ask Superintendent Inkwood.” He began to walk across the dry dead grass, it crunched under his shoes.
Mumbling came from the officers, Freud picked up a few passing words, “Trains cancelled...”... “No impact.”
Superintendent Maria Inkwood stood in uniform over the railway track. The sun was moving downwards behind, blazing an orange outline around her. Freud smiled and tipped his hat towards her.
“Freud! Long time no see. How is work now?” She seemed delighted to see Freud. But before Freud could speak Maria's smile soon faded, “You're The Two Detectives?”
Michael burst in, “Yes! What’s the situation miss?”
Maria Inkwood ignored Michael's outburst and continued speaking to Freud, “You're better than freelance work Freud. Especially with... Michael Encyclopaedia.”
Freud chuckled, “I know, Michael is my friend. No matter what people say, we have solved quite a lot of crimes.”
Maria slowly seemed happier to know Freud was comfortable in his work position. “I did hear about that Carnival Sweets arrest, as well as the Moors Murder case. I bet you do all the brain work though.”
Freud did not reply but he could not hide his smile. Michael frowned, “I am right here you know. What’s the case?? I'm missing valuable sleep I am.”
Maria glared at him for a moment then turned towards a tall blue tent, “Bodies in there.” Michael and Freud followed her into the tent, finding themselves staring over a dark, crispy skinned body laying crippled on the floor.
“Oh dear!” Freud remarked, placing his hat down and bowing his head in respect. Maria Inkwood shoved a peg onto Freud’s, and her own nose. “What do you think Freud? Because something is very obvious to us.”
Freud was irritated by the peg gripping onto his nose, “Well...” he said talking through his nose. “I'd say burnt over a long length of time. Deep cuts in a gruesome way... Possibly before being burnt...”
“Exactly. Here is a mystery for you boys,” Maria continued gripping Michael and Freud's taste for crime mystery. “The driver of the train and his wife are absolutely sure they saw a girl stand out onto the track. It was such a surprise... that they were unable to stop the train in time. Apparently they felt and heard an impact on the front of the train. Yet there were no dents or any traces of blood on the front.
After they stopped the train and called us... well look at it. The moment they saw the body it was a burnt wreck lying in the grass with her limbs all cut up.”
Michael was suddenly finding it interesting; he looked down closer at the body. “I guess everyone assumes it is a different girl. Than the one that jumped out.”
“We did... but the driver and wife looked at the body... the face... the clothing. They swear blind it was the same girl. I think they were basing it on clothing though, as you can see there is not much face left.”
Freud stepped out of the tent breathing in some much needed fresh air. “No impact on the body.. so could not have been hit by a train.. car.. bus, well... anything at all. The burn does not look sudden. It looks more like she was dead already and left in the sun to burn slowly for weeks.”
Michael pulled himself out of the tent almost collapsing it, “So impossible for her to jump out on the railway moooments before her burnt body was found.”
Freud turned around suddenly, “Mooo?”
Michael replied, “Ok.”
Maria Inkwood walked over and grasped Freud's hand, “We're transporting the body to the Tavistock Labs. You know where that is?”
Freud closed his eyes and nodded.
Maria chuckled, “Tomorrow, starting 8am. I'd love some of your help.”
Michael waved his long brown jacket around and spun on one foot, “Freud! Asked out on a date!”
Freud frowned towards him, “Over a dead body? Whilst ripping the bodies flesh off to determine true cause of death?”
Michael stopped stunned, “Yeah... well. While you do that I'll be doing some other stuff.”
“What sort of stuff?” Freud asked politely.
Michael was once again stuck speechless; he actually wanted to go and eat ice-cream in front of an episode of ‘The Ruby Sketches hit Hollywood’. Which he hoped to fall asleep to. Then wake up in the morning ready for some ice-cream breakfast.
Instead this case had come up and was once again taking away ice-cream time. Michael grabbed hold of a man passing by and stared, with daunting eyes at him. “How are you related to the case?”
The man pulled himself back from the drunken-like Detective Encyclopaedia. “I am the train driver.”
“Ok! Good... right, I’ll be interviewing the witnesses and stuff. Happy now Mr. Romantic pasta meal over a corpse’s stomach?”
Freud rolled his eyes and pat Michael on the back, “I trust you'll do well without me. Call me with any updates, I’ll do the same.”
“Have fun on your date.”
“It is not a... It is a professional forensic investigation.”
As they spoke Inkwood's gloved hand picked up a black thread of hair from the grass. She mumbled to herself, “Worth a shot.”

*

Michael stood in the living room of Mr. Jacob Peterson's house. He'd taken his shoes off at the door, so his toes were sinking into the thick carpet. “Great TV. So big and brilliant quality. I have a little TV. Don't get enough work to pay for a BIG TV.” Michael said watching a cooking show and eating a biscuit from Jacob's kitchen.
“So you were the driver of the train. Where is your wife today?”
Jacob stopped in his steps, on the way from the kitchen to the living room. “Since the incident she has not been home I am afraid. I've tried everything to contact her but no reply.”
Michael thought about this for a second, “Interesting. So can you run through what you saw again... the incident?”
Jacob sat down slowly onto an armchair; he held a steaming cup and saucer in his hands. “I was driving the train. My wife came in; she sometimes works in the cafe so comes and sees me. The train went on a little bit... my wife got a phone call and then suddenly the girl jumped out onto the track! When it was too late to stop the train I closed my eyes shut tight. Then I heard the wham. Something must have hit us. I opened my eyes and saw my wife looking a bit stressed closing her eyes. I comforted her after stopping the train, trying to overcome things. Then I called police and ambulance to the scene. Stepped out of the train and there was this... dead... burnt body.”
Michael chomped onto the biscuit, crumbs landing lightly on his jacket. “What did your wife say on the phone?”
Jacob looked a bit uncomfortable; he did not expect an unrelated question while working over harsh memories. “She was just talking to her associate Debbie. They work together at a theme park by the beach. She said... 'yes'... 'That’s fine'... she got a bit restless, 'ok we'll have to... yes... do it anyway. Whatever.'... then she hung up.”
Michael smiled, “I noticed a cookie jar on the counter... might I be able to take that home with me?”
“I... suppose so..” Jacob once again looked uneasy.

*

Maria Inkwood walked through the heavy medical centre doors as Freud had a finger up the victim’s nose. “How’s it going?” She asked, walking around the table, the table with the crispy corpse lay motionless. Freud stared at his gloves for a moment, “Checked the body completely, no impact what so ever. It is positive I’d say, this girl burnt from at least three weeks of sunlight. She must have been laid somewhere, kept somewhere... probably dead already. Suffocated first? Then dumped somewhere and forgotten about. Her corpse just burnt naturally in the sun.”
Maria was deep in thought, pacing across the room, her boots echoing on the tiles. “Good.”
Freud continued, “Though the cuts are very recent. So recent in fact I’d say she was cut and then placed there, ready for you to find. Maybe as a way of making it look like she was hit by the train. Someone’s... game? They did a bad job at pretending that she was hit by the train through... with these amateur cuts and no big impact on any part of her body.”
Inkwood sat down and spun around on a rotating chair, then stomped her boot down as a break. She sat, staring at the body, in a trance. “Question is, were they trying to trick us or someone else?”
Freud nodded, picked up a large sheet and threw it over the naked corpse.

*

“Debbie is it?”
“Yes.”
Michael was at a hotdog stand, part of a giant beach theme park. Debbie was standing behind the counter in her work uniform.
“You want a hotdog?” She asked with a dim expression.
“Not right now no. I was wondering if you knew the where abouts of Kate Peterson, husband of Jacob...”
“No. Why you want to know?” She seemed snappy, straight to the point.
“I'm Detective Michael Encyclopaedia and if you are hiding information we'll find out and you'll be getting jail time.”
Debbie blinked; suddenly she seemed more aware of her surroundings. “I did not do nothing. Kate's... Kate’s... I don’t know. She's off doing her own thing now. Aint seen her since...”
Michael shot in, “Where were you yesterday night... around 8.00pm?”
Kate went silent. “Here.”
“Can anyone confirm that?”
“I was at home.”
“You just said here.”
“I meant home... no one to confirm... it... Kate, maybe?”
“You are not very good at this. Kate was on the train.”

*
Jacob was becoming restless; he sat lonely in his living room. His television was switched off and the lights were dim. He pressed in the mobile number again and brought the phone up to his ear hoping for a reply. The painful ring continued and then finished with a woman, “The person you are calling is not available. Please try again later.”
He threw the phone across the room and slumped back down in his chair.

There was a light knock sound behind him. He slowly turned to investigate then found himself smiling.
Blood spat against the wall as the sharp blade of a knife ripped through his centre. Jacob collapsed onto the living room floor, dead. Blood seeping from his throbbing stomach.

*

Michael and Freud stood in Debbie's kitchen staring at their new homely environment.
Suddenly the door bell rang. Michael ran through the halls and to the front window, glaring out of the blinds. “It's Kate! Don't mention we're here Debbie.”
Freud ran to hide behind a sofa, Michael settled behind a cupboard. Debbie panicked, waving her arms around but not making a sound. After a minute or two she calmed herself down and walked to open the door.

Kate walked in, confidence in her movement. She threw her handbag onto the grotty couch and floated into the kitchen. “I'm going to use your shower Debbie. It is done.”
Debbie coughed, looking over at where the Detectives hid away. “Done what Kate?”
Kate stopped and turned towards her, “... I killed Jacob. Wore gloves, they won't find any prints or even a murder weapon. I'll just act all surprised and devastated. He finally got what he deserved.”

Freud and Michael were now standing clearly in the hallway. They were watching Kate as she drifted around looking for soup tins on shelves. Freud tipped his hat and tried to remain calm and understanding. “We know what happened now Miss Kate.”
Michael picked up a crumb from the arm of the grotty sofa and stared at it closely. “It turns out it was quite simple really.”
Freud nodded. Kate was still in complete shock, they could see she was almost boiling with madness. “Tamsin Burke. The victim.... the girl we identified dead at the scene, burnt in the sunlight. We also found her mobile hidden in the grassland close by. Possibly dropped from her pocket. I'm sorry Debbie... we know everything.”
Freud stopped for a breath, before he could continue Michael broke in. “Your hair was found at the scene Debbie. Course we sort of ignored it at the beginning. Two things that could not possibly connect up, a husband and wife driving a train and a girl jumping out onto the track.”
Freud walked over to the counter and picked up Kate's mobile phone. “But they did connect didn't they. That girl, Tamsin Burke... she'd been missing for three weeks. Then suddenly she jumps out onto the track ready to be hit by a train.
Someone wanted it to look like that had happened anyway. Jacob Peterson was having an affair with Tamsin Burke.”
Michael nodded towards Kate and Debbie. Freud scrolled down the address book and call list on Kate's phone as he spoke, “You knew about it Kate. You got angry and wanted to HURT your husband. So you organised this.
You thought if your husband had seen Tamsin being hit by his own train he'd feel the pain you felt when you found out he was cheating on you.”
Michael once again followed on, “But to me, it looked like he was oblivious of this. The train was moving too fast, and it was too much of a shock for Jacob to recognise her. Plus her body and face were burnt so much he had no way of noticing it was Tamsin lying there dead. Which I imagine was a mistake.
Three weeks ago when you found out, you ordered your friend, Debbie to murder Tamsin. Seemed easy enough, Debbie has mental issues as we found out from past police reports. Debbie must have taken her to this very house and suffocated her. Then she did not know what to do. You called up Debbie mentioning that Jacob was not working for three weeks. So Debbie left the body of the dead girl in the backyard. An unforeseen mistake. In the blazing sun her body burnt up. When the day came you tried to keep as far away from Debbie and the crime as possible. Only contacting her by phone.
Anyone recall the phone call? On the train... just before the event. “She said.. 'yes'... 'thats fine'... , 'ok we'll have to.. yes.. do it anyway. Whatever.'.. then she hung up.”
Debbie was telling her that the body was burnt and did not look the same as when she left it. Kate was angry and knew this would not all turn out as she planned but wanted it to happen anyway.”
Kate shuffled her feet and looked down at the tiles.
Freud put the phone down on the counter. “It was all planned ahead, apart from the burns. You asked Debbie to cut the corpse up and make it look like it had been hit by a train.
Here is the interesting bit. You got Debbie to wear a wig and similar clothing to the victim. And actually risked her own life...”
“I know... I’m sorry Debbie...” Kate suddenly spoke; tears were flowing from her eyes. She was looking at her friend who stood in the corner. “I got Debbie to dress up as Tamsin and jump on the track in front of the train. In the nick of time Debbie would jump out of the way and place the body near by on the grass. She cut her up... pretty badly and then ran away. I did the rest inside. I covered my husband’s eyes and hit the counter, a loud whack sound convincing my husband that the train had hit her”
Michael butt in and directed his words at Debbie, “We probably found the hair when you took your wig off.”

Kate was now crying rapids, holding onto the counter and looking away from the Detectives. “How did you find out all this?”
Freud smiled and straightened up, “Jacob Peterson made various phone calls earlier today. The phone rang in the lab, Tamsin's phone. We twigged, plus the hair and your disappearance. It all fitted. Unfortunately it was too late for us to save Jacob's life... You killed him before we could get there. When you came in you clearly said, “I killed Jacob”. Which we recorded. So it is safe to say you are both going down for murder.”

*

Michael and Freud sat peacefully in the park at a wood bench and table. Michael had a can of coke in his hand and Freud had pulled out a book.
The clouds overhead seemed to part letting a bright sun through and a blue sky. Michael sipped the liquid from the top of the can and then placed it back onto the table.
He found himself in deep thought, “I did not like doing all the talking... it is too emotional... I started to care for these people. I'm actually pretty depressed that Jacob died. Don't ever run off to the labs again will you?”
Freud put the book down and frowned, “I will... I have to. But I won't let you go interviewing by yourself.”
Michael smiled in reply, “Thanks dad.”
“Yeah... I’m not your dad Michael.”
“Shut up I didn't say that.” Michael pushed Freud's book back into his face and continued to sip his coke.


The End

Benjamin and the Poachers

So not to confuse anyone this is another story in part of the Benjamin Biscuitboy and Princess Apple series, Which has come and gone for a while here at The Daily Crumb.

This story takes place after the Shadow in the Kingdom. Which you can find below.

Benjamin and the Poachers
Do not read before Shadow in the Kingdom

Written by guest writer Lana Cohen

King Benjamin sat by the side of his lover for many seasons to come, he did not wish to be parted from the one he loved, and though Princess Apple Tree was now an actual Apple Tree, she still loved him in return. She provided him with shelter and shade with her branches and sparingly gave him her twigs when he was in need of fire wood and her leaves when he required a warm blanket in the harsh cold winter nights. Though they were happy, the Kingdom however was not. Without a King and proper guidance, riots began to spread and the city was plagued by the bad and the wicked.

Because the apple tree was kept in the Kingdom’s garden, great care was taken unto her, so she would not wilt away like the rest of her kind. One spring morning King Benjamin awoke from his sleep as the sun began to glare down on him, as he looked upwards to greet the tree a good morning he was surprised to see a single apple bud resting on one of the branches. Usually the apples grow in bunches yet there was to be only one. King Benjamin knew that this one was special.

He began taking care of the apple as it grew. He used his handkerchief to wrap up the apple at nights and read the apple stories by day. He knew the apple was listening and loved the stories as the apple would become the most radiant of green.

Though the Kingdom’s garden was high in security and was hidden away from the villagers. Word still got out of the new tree spirit. A huge debate caused riots across the Kingdom, some villagers wanted the apple to be planted in the open gardens, so everyone can see it and watch it bloom, and some even tried to steal the apple for themselves.

But their efforts failed as King Benjamin would not part from the apple tree nor the apple and he did not sleep, for he knew that if he closed his eyes for even second, poachers would come and steal the apple away. As it got dark, the apple tree closed herself up for the night. However King Benjamin could not keep it up as he felt his eyelids getting heavier and his vision getting fainter, until before he knew it he was fast asleep. Just as he thought, poachers began to creep in. They silently began to sneak up on the apple tree, not wanting to wake the King.

There were 3 of them, all as greedy and as ugly as each other. But their body shapes ranged in different sizes, one was short and fat, the other was tall and thin, the other was neither tall nor short, neither fat nor thin, but he was old . The old man and the tall, thin man positioned themselves around the tree, trying to find where the apple was hidden amongst the branches, the short, fat man tip toed up to the sleeping King and the short, fat man began to pull out his knife. The tall, thin man spotted the apple and stabbed the trunk of the apple tree with his knife hoping it would wobble the tree, instead the tree woke from her slumber and in panic and pain she swung her branches round, knocking the tall, thin man to the ground. At that moment the apple fell from the tree, looking plump, rich, juicy and full of flavour. Only the old man saw it fell, the other two were too concerned about being attacked by the tree’s branches. The old man stood over the apple, his glaring eyes caught in the apple’s reflection, he began to lick his lips and bent over to pick it up.

Suddenly the apple started to shake frantically and a crack began to emerge from the centre of the apple. A light materialized from the crack, a bright, fluorescent light. The apple split in two halves, revealing a spirit lying where the pips should be. The spirit began to grow and transform into a young, beautiful girl, just like her mother. The poachers gazed in amazement. The old man saw the all the fame and wealth he would get from this rare tree spirit. Without a thought the old man shouted to the short, fat man ‘Off with his head!’

The short, fat man rose up his knife to the King’s throat, and squeezed his eyes shut as he slit his knife across the flesh. He opened his eyes to reveal thin air. He glanced around to see the young girl still glowing with a fluorescent light with the King in her arms. The King slowly awoke, seeing a vision of his wife with her arms wrapped round him. It took a few seconds for his eyes to focus, he looked round to see the apple tree still standing, but in pain, he then saw the three poachers, and stood up in confidence. The King had fury in his eyes and the three poachers huddled together.

‘My lord, it’s not what you think.’ Said the old man

‘I ... er ... you see ... sire ...’ Stuttered the short, fat man

‘We didn’t mean any harm.’ Stated the tall, thin man

The King drew his sword and with anger in his voice he said,

‘You three are banished from my Kingdom, you must never return here again!’

With that, the King’s guards came to escort the three poachers from the Castle.

King Benjamin threw his sword to the ground and gently stroked the apple tree to sooth her pain. ‘I’m sorry my darling, I shouldn’t have fallen asleep, I was mean to protect you, you and that apple ...’

He turned around to see the young girl, not glowing anymore, but instead lying unconscious on the grass. He ran up to her.

‘It’s my fault little apple, I’m so sorry. You chose to become human just so you could save me from those poachers. But I promise I’ll make it up to you. I’ll never leave your side, my castle is your home, I’ll teach you how to make the best biscuits in the Kingdom, and I’ll read you a story every night’.

A smile formed on her face and the apple tree bloomed like she’s never bloomed before.

With help from King Benjamin’s new daughter, Pip, they were able to restore the Kingdom, back to the magnificent Kingdom it once was, and still had time to visit the apple tree every day, watching her apples grow in bunches.

the end

By Lana Cohen

Shadow in the Kingdom part 2

The kingdom is in panic.
Knights are exploring every corner for the Queen and the family held hostage.
Benjamin is pacing the halls of the castle, Princess Apple watching from an armchair. "What happened to Kunen?"
"He is in bed resting," Ben answers calmly.
"But he tryed to kill you. Is that not worth a night in the dungeon?" The Princess picks up a glass of juice from a side table.
"He's been my friend for too long." He smiles at her, "He's the victim here."
"You are a great king."
"I'm just a Biscuitboy."

"Lam Heeksphere, at your service my lord!" Lam is a small man with grubby clothes. His job, to detect. "I've never failed before sir."
Benjamin frowns, "There is a first time for everything."
Lam thinks for a moment, "Ah yes sir! This is true! But you pay up front."
Benjamin sees this small man as a light hearted fellow, "Three bags of gold... and don't call me .. 'my lord'.. or 'sir'. It is really annoying."
"Rightchu are my lord."


Sat comfortably in the dining room of the castle is the shaking man. The first to see the Queen alive and well, and buying knives from the market. He is enjoying a unidice bleech fruit, juice dribbling down chin. He was enjoying the life of a royal.
"Mornin!" Lam Heeksphere appears next to him.
"Hi." the man replies with a mouth full of food.
"Just want to know one thing."
"Ok.. what is i..."
"In which direction did the Queen leave in?" Lam asks.
"Uh.." the shaking man drops the bitten fruit onto his plate. "Right.. or left, it was right."
"What is your name?"
"Uh... uh.. ummmmm maybe uh.... Blanket."the shaking man shifts his arms along the table.
"Last name?"
"That is my last name."
"OK, then you'll be able to guess what my next question is." Lam continues.
"My name is Warm Blanket."
"Really? Quite a suspect name if you do not mind me saying so."
"I'm used to it."
"Mind if i eat some of your food?"
"Um.." Warm seems quite surprised.
"Tell me, why did you hesitate to answer my questions?"
"I've a bad memory."
"So bad you forgot your own name?"
"Yes."
"Ok. My name is Lam by the way. I'm investigating this... issue. Have you seen the Queen since?"
"I.. uh.. no."
"You hesitated again."
"I'm a hesitant man. You cannot convict me for that."
"No.. you've been a great help bud! I'll be on my way now! Let me know if you see anything else." Lam turns for the door, skipping along the stone floor.
"Hold on Lam."
"Yes?"
"Ask the king if he has any of those biscuits of his. They're delish."
"Only the royal family ever ate his biscuits. How do you know their taste?"
"He gave them to me.. secretly."
"He did not know you personally before today."
"Um... forget the biscuits. I.. no.. i have not tried them, i WANTED to try one. Because i'd heard so much."
"Yeah yeah. In the dungeon."


"So why is Warm Blanket in the dungeon?"
"He likes your biscuits."
"Ah."
Benjamin Biscuitboy and Lam Heeksphere chatter in the kitchen. Ben walks over to the window, a hand on the glass. "We're getting no where Lam. We've no idea where she is. We are no closer to finding Kunen's family."
"Where is your wife sire?" Lam butts in.
"The princess? She is.. well shes in bed. I regret to say she is very ill." Benjamin sighs and turns to lean on the wood kitchen table.
Lam conciders this, "I am also a trained doctor my lord. I may be able to work out what is wrong."
Benjamin brightens up, "Brilliant! What would it cost?"
"Nothing! I am now a friend to your kingdom my lord."


"Soooo, Warm Blanket. I hear you wanted some of my biscuits."
"Yes Ben.. i mean, my lord."
Benjamin stares through the thick dungeon bars at the prisoner. "How is it possible you've eaten one before? I only served the royal family, we had no time to bake for the rest of the kingdom."
Warm smiles, "I'm going to ask a question."
"Um.. fire away."
"You're weak for a king. You do not act like one. You are quite stupid."
"Excuse me Warm! I do not think that is necassary!" Benjamin growls through.
"See, i've insulted you and you are not even very angry. Where is the punishment? Where is the OFF WITH THEIR HEAD?"
"That lifestyle is a thing of the past. That was the way the Queen ran this kingdom. That way was wrong and heartless. She classed herself above the little people, who all worked much harder than her."
"She ran a better kingdom. Better constructed, as you say, classed, EVERYONE KNEW THEIR PLACE.
Do you know how i can tell you are stupid 'my lord'?" Warm blanket glares at Ben from the cell silently.
"How?" Benjamin asks.
Warm giggled suddenly, "Because you've left your wife, Princess Apple with someone you know nothing about. Lam Heeksphere."

Benjamin runs up the gloomy stone steps to the centre of the castle.
"Morning sire," says Kunen wondering miserably through the halls. "Any luck on finding my family?"
Benjamin runs past him shouting, "No, i'm sorry!"
"Didn't think so," Kunen slumps down on an arm chair.


Ben pushes open the heavy door to his and the Princess' suite. Lam is standing over Princess Apple, sitting comfortable in bed.
"Princess! Are you ok?" Benjamin screams.
"Absolutely! Your doctor gave me some medicine, my headache has gone completely!"
Benjamin makes a sigh of relief. "Oh gosh.. I cannot.. believe.." He runs to give her a big hug.
Lam shifts backwards smiling, "All in a days work my lord. Now! Off to find that Queen!"

Kunen picks up the post from the castle front hall. "Got your mail.. *cough* sir... sire.. my lord.. *cough*" He walks over to Benjamin and passes him an envelope.
"Thankyou Kunen."
Benjamin rips open the envelope and picks out the letter inside.
"Dear Benjamin Biscuitboy. As you may guess while reading, this letter is a distraction. My loyal servant, 'Warm Blanket' has broken out of your dungeon and is going to take your Princess. As you read the last line of this letter Warm Blanket will have left the castle from the back entrance and disappeared from view. Go and check. then come back for further instructions."

Benjamin stands up suddenly. Kunen moans at him, "I swear i just saw a man running past with the Princess Apple over his shoulder."
Benjamin shrieks and sits to read the rest.

"That was quick. So now we have something you want. You have something I want. The biscuits. Meet me in the kingdom centre right now. No guards. We'll talk.

- Queen 'Get your head out of the clouds'"

Benjamin runs, leaving the castle behind him.
The centre of the kingdom is wide and beautiful. A fountain in the middle. Surrounded by colourful tiles and beautiful market stores.

"Alright King?" Lam Heeksphere smiles up at Benjamin.
"Why are you here?"
Lam spots the letter in Benjamin's hand. "I got a letter as well. It said i'd find a clue here as to the Queen's where abouts."
"Well apparently she is going to be right here." Benjamin is breathing fast, worried for the Princess' life.
"The letter said the Queen has the Princess Apple my lord. Is this true?" Lam is now very worried.
"Yes, i am afraid so."
"You know... she is very special. The last of her kind. The last spiritual apple tree ever."
"Yes i know, i know."
"Why did you take her away from her field?"
"She wanted to be part of our kingdom. It was her choice, not mine."
Lam smiles, "Of course, i'm sorry my lord."
"Don't call me..."

Suddenly blood explodes from Lam's chest. Droplets soaring through the air as the weight of his body brings it to the ground. The echo of a gunshot.
He collapses abruptly onto the colourful tiles.
"LAM!" Benjamin screams shocked. He leans down, a hand on the bloody wound. A tear forms in Ben's eye.

A big fat hooded character appears in front of them holding out a rusty wood crafted pistol.
"Queen.." Benjamin begins.
"Hello Benjamin. I've suddenly come to terms with something. I am mean."
Benjamin stands silent.
The Queen continues, "When i was the ruler i ordered people to kill for me. I never concidered myself mean because i was not the one with the blood on my hands. But now, i am. And i love it. I LOVE IT!"

"WHERE IS THE PRINCESS?"
"I knew that Kunen could not kill you. He is a weakling. His dinners were always pretty revolting."
"Where is she??" Benjamin is breathing faster now, tears dropping from his eyes.
"Should i shoot you? My, what a prize that would be."
"If you shoot me, you will not know where the biscuits are kept."
"True. That is why the best option is to shoot Princess Apple."
Benjamin falls silent once again. Warm Blanket appears from a market store with a knife to the Princess' throat. He pushes her onto the tiles below the Queen's feet.
"Warm Blanket has always been the better slave. He has been loyal ever since the beginning. Even after my ruling finished."
Warm kicks Princess Apple in the back as she lay on the floor.
Benjamin runs forward then stops as the Queen points her pistol towards Princess Apple's forehead. Princess Apple stares at Ben with lost, teary eyes.
Benjamin shouts,"I will tell you where the biscuits are if you just give her to me safely. Then, you go, leave and never return."

The Queen laughs, "I don't like that deal. What if you give me the biscuits and the kingdom, then i give you the Princess and you become my slaves once again."
Lam mumbles something as he shivers in pain. Benjamin leans down to listen, "She is not.. not safe as a human.. ehk.. it.. it.. last of her.. kind..." His body stops moving suddenly and he is gone.
Another tear drops from Ben's eye.
"Why did you kill him? He was nothing to do with this."
The Queen replies, "Wanted to show you i mean business."

Benjamin sighs after a moment of thought, "Your deal goes then."
A loud sigh from the people surrounding them, that they will all return to be slaves once again. The Queen laughs. "Good! That is what i like to hear."

"Sounds terrible to me."
Kunen appears behind the Queen, a sword to the back of her neck. "Where is my family?" His eyes conquered by anger and gloom.
"I would not do that, you forget i have a right hand man."
Warm Blanket cackles in an evil manner and begins to walk towards Kunen.
Benjamin takes his chance and leaps at Warm's back pushing him onto the ground. His face grinding against the tiles.
Princess Apple notices this and goes in to trip up the Queen. Her feet fly upwards and she lands on her giant back rolling onto her side in pain.
The Princess stands over the Queen glaring at her intensely. "Go on, where is his family?"
The Queen squeeks in fear as Kunen's cold blade touches her skin.
"They're in the market stall over there! OVER THERE! She points in fear. As Benjamin holds down Warm, Princess Apple runs over to the stall.

She unties the hands of Kunen's family.


Queen 'get your head out of the clouds' and Warm Blanket are in the dungeon. This time it has extra security.
Kunen is on a paid holiday break with his family to get over the stress.
Princess Apple and Benjamin Biscuitboy are running the kingdom their way. Delivering free biscuits to every one of the townfolk.

The Kingdom of Fiction is a much brighter place.


An envelope appears at the front door of the castle. Benjamin kisses Princess Apple lightly on the cheek and goes to the mail.

"Dear Benjamin Biscuitboy and Princess Apple.

This is Lam Heeksphere. By now i will have left the kingdom to explore new areas of work.
Unless i'm dead haha Which i sure hope i'm not! I am writing this to be sent on this very date at this very time. To arrive 2 days after i leave.
I am a historian, a proud historian. One of my main interests is the history of the tree spirits. For years i've studied them and for years i have watched them die.
It is known that when a tree spirit grows up it may want to leave and transform into a human.
This change is, as you know permanent. Princess Apple is the very last of her kind, and i will not let her die in this dangerous human world.
There is never peace here. I've investigated enough murders to know this. So on the day i was called upon as a Doctor in your Kingdom.. i gave the princess a potion.
Disguised as headache medicine. The potion is a formula i developed just for her. To turn her back to her original form.
I made this letter arrive at this date and time because this is how long it takes for the potion to change her back to an apple tree.
All i suggest is as she is changing, make sure you lay her body back in the field where she can grow her roots in peace.

Your friend Lam Heeksphere"

"He did WHAT?" Benjamin screams turning to his weak wife.
Princess Apple has collapsed onto the floor with tired eyes.

Kunen helps Ben carry the Princess out onto the open fields. They place her down by a dead tree.
"I can't believe this is happening.." Benjamin crys, "We only just settled down. Everyone was happy. We were free."
Kunen puts a hand on his friends back. "I'm so sorry."
"Benjamin.." The weak Princess whispers. She lay in the cool swaying grass. Just faint, losing a sense of reality.
Benjamin leans down for a hug. "I'm so sorry i left him with you. Crazy.. nutter of a man. I'm so sorry i let you take his potion while i was away."
Princess Apple is too tired to speak.
Benjamin crys over her, "I'm sorry."

"We should stand back," Kunen remarks patting Ben on his shoulder.
Ben mopes and stands away from his wife.
She looks up at him, teary eyed, "I love you."
"I love you too," Benjamin replies. Their eyes flooded.
Kunen waves kindly at the Princess, she smiles in return.

In seconds she is no longer the same. Her body split and molded into the shape of a tall apple tree.
Stood lonely in the fields.

"I'm going to stay here forever." Benjamin says, lowering to sit down on the grass.
"Sire?" Kunen spoke.

There is only the sound of wind through the apple trees leaves as they sit in the field quietly.

Shadow in the Kingdom part 1

As two new rulers wake the sun brightens the magical Kingdom of Fiction.
Villagers are leaving their houses for the first time.
"What would you like for breakfast good sir?"Chef Kunen stands prepared at the stove as Benjamin Biscuitboy sits down.
"Have you seen the princess, Kunen?" Benjamin asks with sleepy eyes.
The chef turns to the new king. "Yes my lord, she left this morning. Went to the fields."
Benjamin smiles, "Thankyou. Don't call me, 'my lord'. Just.. keep it at Ben. We've been friends long enough. I'll make my own breakfast. You go home to your family, i will send you gold every week. That is as long as you visit!"
The chef is surprised. "That's not fair on you Ben. I'd be getting paid for nothing."
Benjamin stands up knocking his chair backwards. "Byes!" He then skips out of the kitchen.

The kingdom fields go on forever with swaying grass in the wind. Princess Apple is knelt down by the tallest dead tree.
Benjamin puts his hand on her shoulder.
"What is wrong?" Benjamin leans down to her eye-level.
"We killed the Queen. Your only aunty, your only family. We killed someone."
"You're my family now. And.. she was not.. she could not even be concidered, 'someone'. She was not worth it. She was a disgrace to our kingdom and our people."

Benjamin and the Princess walk among the villagers, through their markets and gathering spots. Benjamin introduces the Princess to all of his past friends, the old and young.

A man walks up to the two.
"What is wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost!" the Princess shouts fearful. "Are you ill?"
The man is shaking, with shocked eyes. "I-i-i-i have..."
Benjamin takes the man back to the kingdom.

Chef Kunen is cooking up some chocolate muffins for the guest. Benjamin wonders over to him, "I thought i said you could leave."
"I wanted to work this one last day. To show my full appreciation Ben." Kunen smiles at his friend.

"I saw her.." The shaking man squirms. "I saw her, she is not dead. The Queen, she is not dead. I saw her wondering the castle walls. She came to my store not too long ago. She was disguised as a villager. But i know there is no villager as fat as her..."
Princess Apple stares silently.
Benjamin leans forward concerned, "Are you possitive it was her?"
"Yes."
"Well then.. Kunen. Demand the knights search the kingdom. I demand she be locked away."
Princess Apple puts a hand on Ben's arm, "Is that not a bit harsh? Maybe she is.. just trying to get back on top. Maybe we should give her another chance?"
Ben frowns for a first time, "I don't think so. Tell me, shaking man... what does this store of yours sell?"
"Knives, my lord."


The kingdom is searched by the knights. Every house searched from top to bottom.
"We are so sorry to take so much of your time up," Benjamin speaks to the families and workmen.

"You found nothing?"
Princess Artistic and Benjamin discuss the matter.
"No sign of her." Benjamin replies. He walks to the window, the sun has almost disapeared behind the mountains. "Will sleep on it i suppose. Tomorrow we search again."
Suddenly a whistling sound screams through the hallways of the dark castle. The candles flutter. Princess Apple grabs onto Benjamin.

Ben's steps echo down the halls as he follows the whistle to the kitchen. "Kunen? What are you doing here at this time of night?"
Kunen smiles innocently, "Sorry, i thought you two could do with hot chocolates before i leave for good. I'm going to miss working for the royals."
"You have been good to this kingdom Kunen, i'd have been happier if you were the one made king." Benjamin answers.
He then takes the princess to their suite.

As night makes no sound Benjamin and Princess Apple sleep. Occasionally a cricket would be heard out of the window but no other. The villagers are all lost in slumber.

A stomp on the floorboards. A shadowy figure floats through the suite doorway.
The moonlight from the window makes the blade glow in the intruders hand. A knife held high as they step closer.
*Creak*
Benjamin wakes up suddenly. The figure is gone, he looks around to see an empty room. Still on edge he pulls himself out of bed and clambers for the wall in the darkness. He lights a candle and holds it up in front of him.
"You're back." Benjamin whispers.
"I'm so sorry." Kunen holds the knife out, placing it against Benjamin's throat. "The Queen, she has my family. This... This..." He begins to cry, "This is all i can do to save them."
Benjamin backs up against the wall, "No.. uh.. Kunen, this is not all you can do. We.. uh.. i can go and get your family back."
"She wants her kingdom back. She needs you dead."

Suddenly a frying pan knocks Kunen out from behind. His body collapses onto the ground, the knife flying from his grasp.

Princess Apple straightens herself up and drops the pan onto the floor. Benjamin smiles weakly to her, "Thankyou." She runs for a hug.


The next day seemed less bright. Twas a grey sky and fierce rain.
And one of the kingdoms houses was missing a family.

End of the Queen's Era

It has been a busy week in the magical Kingdom of Fiction. Benjamin Biscuitboy and Princess Apple gathered every member of the kingdom and rolled fat Queen 'Get your head out of the clouds' off of the cliff.
Though there may be a chance she is still alive she is most definitely not going to bother us for the moment.
They returned from their honeymoon surrounded by guards. They'd left without warning after a quiet wedding in Naboo.
The Queen was not happy that they had left, she wanted biscuits to eat while they were away. She wanted every biscuit she could gobble down.

The Queen demanded Benjamin and Princess Apple's heads be sliced from their necks in a weeks time.
In the week they remained alive they would have to bake her hundreds of thousands of biscuits. These biscuits would be eaten after they were killed.

So the week went on and they continued to bake and bake for the Queen.
But the Queen got greedy, she wanted the biscuits NOW. So she ate all of the biscuits planned for future storage.

Soon the Queen was so fat her feet were no longer visable.

Her guards finally started to giggle at her stupid image and squeaky voice. Princess Apple and Benjamin Biscuitboy took the time to spread word of her evil ways across the kingdom.

Soon enough the Queen was ambushed by her own people and rolled off the side of a cliff.

King Benjamin Biscuitboy and Queen Artistic the Apple Princess now sit at the head of the kingdom. The nicest people to have ever ruled.

Poor Margaret

Today in the news a car was juiced as it looked like an orange.
Also in the news




PART 2
A dramatic comedy thingy
Read part 1 in the post before this

--
"Oh i do love Jaffa Cakes Margaret."
"Do you?"
"Mm yes! My favourite, are there any more Margaret?"
"I'm sorry Alfred, i have not got any more."
"Aw Shambles. Well are you going to the shop soon?"
"I was not planning to."
"Oh."
"I suppose i can."
"Good Good! Get something nice for dinner as well!"
"What like?"
"I dont know! you're the one making it. Cant expect me to work my noggin over time."
"Okay Alfred. Have you seen my shoes?"
"No."
"Oh here they are
ew
They're full of poo."
"Ooh dear. You see this bloke on tv, he never ages!! It's amazing, i saw him in the original series and he looked the same!"
"I'll have to wash them now."
"Dont worry Margaret, you can go bear foot. I dont think people will stare."
"Well why.. I mean.. i guess.. no i think i have some spares in the other room."
"Margaret."
"Yes Alfred?"
"Can i get rid of this picture of Legless Larry over here? Its distracting me from the television.


Are you crying in the kitchen?"
"No... im fine.
"Ok, just dont want any tears on my pie lunch for tommorow. A taste like sour rain."
"I'm going to the shop now."
"Bye."
"Bye."

*

"Hello Margaret! How are you doing?"
"I'm fine Samuel... How are you coping after the wedding?"
"Yeah im ok, im just worried about my Grandfather, i kicked him out, have not seen him in 3 weeks."
"Oh dear."
"Yep, one baked beans left. Do you want it?"
"Oh, no i wont, Alfred dont like baked beans."
"Alfred?"
"Your Grandfather."
"What?.. well.. is he staying with you??"
"Oh, yes yes he is. Did you not know?"
"No i did not. You really should not have done that Margaret, he does not deserve the kindness you give."
"Oh thats kind Samuel. I do miss Larry so much. "
"Guess i'll take the baked beans then."
"Ok."
"So how is he?"
"He's ok, just at home watching television. Actually, i think he asked me to buy some jaffa cakes.. so i'll do that."
"You're a little bit slow arent you Margaret?"
"Sorry darling, my hearings going."
"I said i have a doll that sings and glows Margaret. "
"Oh ok. Thats lovely sweetheart. I must be getting back to your Grandfather. He'll be wondering where his Jaffa Cakes are by now."
"You know Margaret, Larry was a much friendlier person than Alfred. If you were smart you'd stick up for yourself and KICK THAT MAN OUT!"


*

"Thanks for the Jaffa Cakes Margaret."
"That is ok Alfred."
"What are you doing?"
"Sitting."
"It may look like a two seater Margaret but there is only enough room for me."
"Ok."
"Theres a nice seat just over there for you."
"Yes of course."
"Comfy?"
"Yes lovely, Alfred."
"Lovely, wheres that hot chocolate you promised me?"
"I dont remember...

Okay."


*DInG dONG*
"Oh hello Samuel! How are you doing?"
"I've come to relieve you of Alfred!"
"Oh you're so kind. Would you like a cup of tea?"
"Yes please Margaret."
"He's in the living room."
"Thankyou Margaret."

"Alright grandson?"
"Yes Grandpa."
"That Margaret's been taking care of me like a right tomato."
"I'm sure she has. Do you want to come home with me Grandfather?"
"No i'm fine boy. I'll just lay here.."
"You mean sit."
"Yeah Samuel's a good lad."
"Are you ok Alfred?"
"Absolutely."
"You're a bit green."
"2 Sugars??"
"Yes please."
"Does your grandad want one?"
"No, he dont drink tea. God, her memories as bad as yours."
"Right you are son."
"Are you sure you're ok Grandpa?"
"Absolutely, here, could you turn the television off, its loud and burning my ears if you know?"
"Grandad... it is off."
"Good lad. You're the best grandson i could ever had."
"Thanks Grandpa."
"Here, what ever happened to your father?"
"He died Grandpa... he was killed when he was swimming and an aeroplane crash landed onto the water above him."
"Oh no..."
"Grandpa.. you're crying.. heh.. you never cried when you first heard. You just said he deserved it for having a glowing red nose to call the plane towards him when he had a cold."
"I dont remember."
"Oh.. Grandfather, do you remember bringing me up?"
"I remember you when you were about 8. We went to the park."
"I remember that as well, i fell and hit my knee."
"So did i."
"Oh no, it was just you wasnt it."
"I cant... i cant remember."
"Grandpa you need a sleep. Margaret! How much sleep did he get last night?"
"I'm not sure, the television was on all night but when i came for breakfast he was fast asleep on the sofa. I think that sofa has been food for small creatures these last few days. He only eats by the TV."
"Yes i know... Grandfather, we'll go back to my house and you can have a nice nap, i'll order some pizza. You love pizza."
"I loved the times we had.. Thankyou Margaret. You made a nice... sort of.. i cant remember, some sort of soup. but i can still taste it."
"Oh.. thankyou Mr. Alfred."
"Mm"
"Come on! Stand up!"
"Ok..... oh.. i dont think i can."
"He's just being a lazy sod again, go on, stand up Grandfather."
"I really cant Samuel my boy."
"Stop it Grandpa, you're being a real nit again."
"Sorry. I cant move my legs. I cant feel them at all."
"Hm."
"I'm sorry Margaret."
"What for Alfred?"
"For pushing Larry off the side of a cliff in his wheelchair."
"You what?"
"I said for dusting Barry's Rav 4 at the Village Fair."
"I'm sorry Alfred, i dont know Barry."
"Thats ok then."
"You're going white grandfather."
"Mh. Ghost colour.. suppose i'm getting closer."
"Dont speak like that."
"I can do irish if you want."
"Heh.. you were always a bit funny grandpa."
"Thankyou.... "
"Grandfather?

Grandfather?... oh no....
his heart.... it has stopped. Wha. .but.. i .. ther............."
"Teas up! Just come and collect it on the dining table Samuel. Oh, why are you crying Samuel?"
"He's dead.... he's dead Margaret."
"Yes i know that Samuel but why are you crying?"

- The Daily Crumb

BreckFEST celebrates Kelloggsology

Today in the news BreckFEST began another months shows. If you are unaware, BreckFEST is a competition of TV script writers. Thousands send in their short episode ideas, over 20 are picked and produced into live action and animated films by Daily Crumb Films and BBC. Bringing some love into the community.
And Kelloggsology is of course the creative mind.

Also in the news man runs over sleeping policeman.
Chef becomes major artist after cutting her leg off and looking at the bloody result.
and some lines just are together randomly stuck.

Also in the news
>
----------------------------------------------------------------------
The Adventures of ALFRED the ever so slightly old man.

"Hi old timer. How are you today?"
"Oh I'm fine. Dropped a sweet earlier, meaning to go and look for it."
"Oh, nice, i'm going to go and make some toast."
"Oh.."
"What?"
"Well, its just... nothing."
"No, what is it Grandpa?"
"Nothing, hey, you know i dropped a sweet earlier."
"Ya! haha. Funny days ay Grandpa."
"Yes I was meaning to go and look for it!"
"Haha! Well toast time i think, do you want anything Grandpa?"
"Hmph."
"What is it?"
"Nothing! Go make your toast!"
"You're grumpy Grandpa, do you want a hug?"
"No! I want my sweet!"
"OOOHHH, why didnt you just say so... oh dear Grandpa, its got all dog hair on it."
"Well buy me some more."
"Sorry Grandpa?"
"I said I've just seen a boar."
"Haha, all your stories Grandpa, you could write a book one day."
"Can you even read?"
"Silly questions Grandpa haha, i love you!"
"You are a moron, A MORON!"
"Hot chocolate tonight pa? Warm up to Coronation street ay?"
"I dont even like Coronation Street you P*Ang!"
"Grandfather! The language please!"
"How old are you , 3? No! You're 20 and you're the only one here! I CAN SAY WHAT I LIKE!"
"Oh, dont raise your voice Grandpa, you'll dribble on your suit. You dont want to mess it up before my wedding do you."
"I'm not a paper! I mean, a baby! I'm not a baby! Damn typos. Oh dear.. bit of dribble there.. why are you marrying her? Shes so ugly."
"I'll pretend i didnt hear that pa."
"Yeah, im just jealous, better looking than your Grandmother."
"Grandpa!"
"What?"
"You've gone and dribbled on your new suit."
"So what?"
"People will stare."
"Let them stare, i still have my limp."
"I suppose they'll be staring anyway. Straighten that tie Grandpa."
"You do it."
"I'm too busy with my tie pa, do it yourself. We have to leave soon."
"My arms arent moving."
"Pa? Are you feeling ok?"
"Well. I CAN'T MOVE MY ARMS!"
"Oh dear, you're right.. here, i'll do the tie for you."
"Could you pass me the cigarettes, perfect grandson?"
"Of course pa."
"Thanks."
"Hey! You just used your arm to grab the cigarettes! The cheek!"
"HAHAHAHAhahahHAHS*cough*HAHAHA*choke*hahaAH*cough*Haghrruuh ghuagry."

"Pa?"



"Pa?"


"Yes?"
"Oh PA! You frightened the living daylights out of me!"
"I want more sweets."

*

"Oh my God Alfred, i... what happened?"
"What do you mean what happened Margaret?
"You're in a wheelchair!"
"Oh this! Nothing, i was being forced to walk to the wedding so i decided to take a wheelchair from next doors garden."
"You.. what??"
"I said, i was being FORCED to WALK to the WEDDING with my FEET. So i stole a wheelchair from a leggless man."
"Yes yes.. i heard you... um.. so... what do you think of the coffee?"
"I dont drink coffee."
"But you are drinking it now."
"Oh.. well then it is terrible."
"Lovely day for it."
"What? For having a horrible taste in your mouth?"
"No Alfred! for the wedding!"
"Oooh... Well for once you're right Margaret. It is a rather delightful day. Why are you dressed in green margaret?"
"Oh, you like it? I got it for a nice price at.."
"No, i just thought it was all black at weddings."
"Oh.. what was your wedding like Alfred?"
"I cant really remember it. I know someone didnt turn up though."
"Cant have been anyone important if you cant remember it ay?"
"Nah course not! Actually it was me. Do you want this tea?"
"It's coffee."
"No, beer please."
"Right.. i'll be back in a mo."
"Goodbye Margaret."

"I'm back."
"Why?"
"I brought you your beer."
"Oh, thanks."
"Dont they look lovely together?"
"She'd be better off with me."
"Excuse me?"
"I said id rather live under the sea."
"Oh ok."
"Tell you what, this wine is terrible."
"It's beer Alfred."
"I asked for Wine."
"You said beer."
"I meant wine."
"Oh."
"Sorry Margaret."
"REALLY?"
"What What?"
"I mean.. its ok... "
"Hold on a minute, why did you get all shocked then?"
"Well... you're never normally so kind."
"Oh.. must be the whole wedding mood. It is sort of jolly. Peanuts!"
"What?"
"Someones handing them out over there."
"Oh lovely."
"So what happened to your husband Margaret?"
"I already told you, he lost his legs under a train."
"No i mean, why didnt he turn up today?"
"Someone stole his wheelchair this morning."
"Oooh Dear. Friggen kids these days dont care who they're joking around with."
"That wheelchair comfy?"
"Yes yes!"
"Would you mind, after the wedding.. if i could take it home for Larry."
"Yes! We can put him in it and roll him off a cliff! Then we can get married ay Margaret? It's that sort of jolly!...
Margaret? Oh why are you crying?
Oh it is that coffee isnt it, those darn... you know i paid for all of this! Excuse me!! EXCUSE ME!"
"Yes sir?"
"I paid for all of this."
"I heard."
"I expect better coffee."
"I am sorry sir, we will try harder."
"Thankyou."
"So that your grandson out there is it?"
"Yep! Finally a real man. We're going to the ballet after to celebrate!"
"I see, well goodbye old man."
"The cheek! I'm only 80!"


*

"How could you Grandpa?"
"Turn the heater on would you pal."
"You completely ruined my wedding!"
"You got married didnt you?"
"No! That was what ruined it!"
"Oh dont be a fat git!"
"What?"
"I said dont be a fat git!"
"WHAT?"
"FAT!..."
"Yes i get it Grandfather!"
"Good."
"How could you..."
"Stop mumbling, whats on the box?"
"The friggen TV grandad! It's A TV!"
"Alright alright! Never seen you this stressed in my long short life!"
"Why do you think i'm mad Grandfather?"
"As an old person i start to gain memory loss."
"SOME BODY ruined my wedding!"
"Oh dear! WHO?"
"SOME ONE by the name of AL..."
"Margaret?"
"No.. Alf....."
"Not Alf, i didnt know he turned up, the cheek!"
"No Grandpa, A certain Grandfather."
"Dont blame Larry! He has no legs!"
"If anyone is to blame, it is you father!"
"Actually it was Margaret, she gave me all those beers."
"You ruined my wedding BEFORE you were drunk Grandpa."
"Really? What happened then?"
"You remember."
"You mean apart from running up between you and your future wife shouting, "She deserves better!"
"You shouted it in slow motion, tipped a candle over and caused a fire in the building."
"Should get plastic candles, you know.. with the little lightbulbs in them, that'd be perfect. Why are they.."
"SHUT UP! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!"
"What?"
"You heard me Grandpa, the street for you. I've been taking care of you for years on end, dont think i havent heard what you call me."
"You pelicans fart flaps."
"What did you say?"
"Shooshell again Cart Snaps."
"I thought i said get out."
"I thought i said get out."
"You *********."
"Oh thankyou thankyou! I expected about 3 or 4 stars but 9! I could be up for an oscar!"
"Get the hell out that door and never come back."
"Get the phone would you."
"Ok. But when i get back you HAVE to be gone!"
"Fine."


(In other room)
"OH NO! I'm so very sorry margaret. That is very unfortunate, my thoughts go out to you. How did it happen?.... someone put him in a wheel chair and pushed him off a cliff?

Oh dear me."



"Hello Margaret! Oh darling, dont be so sad, im sure you'll get over it in a minute. Can i sit here?"
"Yes.. i suppose."
"Oh lovely, could you put the kettle on?"
"You like tea?"
"I dont."
"Why do you want the kettle on?"
"Oh is that what they are for? Well, suppose dont turn it on then.
Now, whats on the box?
Ooo Coronation Street!"



- The Daily Crumb