Tales of humour, whimsy and courgettes
“Jesus wept,” sighed Spectre.
“What’s up?” asked Sprite.
“I just got into a discussion about infinity with Red,” grumbled Spectre.
“What’s wrong with that?” asked Sprite.
“He just went on about it forever,” moaned Spectre.
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“Missus kicked you out again?” asked Cloud.
“Yeah,” said Pterodactyl. “I asked to borrow the newspaper from her. ‘Don’t bother with a paper’ she said, ‘I have a new 12-inch tablet!'”
“Oh, they are good!” said Cloud.
“Yep,” replied Pterodactyl. “Feckin’ fly didn’t know what hit it…”
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“Well there’s no point throwing a strop,” said Serpent.
“Grr,” grumbled Red, spitting out a tyre.
“What’s happened now?” asked Fuen.
“Red just lost his job at the helium balloon factory after an argument with his boss,” sighed Serpent.
“I won’t be spoken to in that tone of voice!” growled Red.
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Malcolm blinked into the blue light.
“Help me,” came a voice from behind.
Malcolm span around. Peering through the water, he saw a woman. Her skin bloated and rotten. Her hair floating sideways in the current.
“Help me,” she pleaded. He watched as she stood pulling rocks out of her pockets. They kept coming. Never ending, rock after rock.
“Please help me,” she begged again. He would have tried if the hands clutching his ankles had let go.
~
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“What ya got there?” Spectre asked Sprite.
“My latest Ebay conquest,” said Sprite. “A Buddhist lamp from a 16th-century monastery!”
“Nice,” said Spectre. “I hope it’s enlightening…”
~
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“Oh, shut up,” snapped Spider. “I’m fine!”
“Bugger off then,” replied Fuen.
“Spider, your addiction to drinking brake fluid is getting out of hand!” yelled Yuffie.
“Rubbish!” cried Spider, “I can stop anytime…”
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She gasped as the tentacle slid around her stomach.
Her husband, that pitiful man, leaned over the top of the well. “Are you OK?”
“I’m fine,” she called back. After all, this was why she’d come here. She smiled as she felt the intense pressure on her stomach and the air leaving her lungs.
“Annie?” came a concerned voice from above.
“I’m fine,” she sighed back, as suckers formed on her fingers.
~
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“It’s a UFO!” said Cloud, for the umpteenth time.
“I still don’t see it!” said Sprite. “It’s just a field of wheat!”
“Let me have a look,” said Fuen.
Sprite handed Fuen the photo. Fuen studied the image for a moment. It was a low-resolution photo, depicting a field of wheat.
“Well?” sulked Cloud.
“I can’t make out a UFO,” said Fuen. “It’s too grainy.”
~
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“Good grief Spectre, you stink,” exclaimed Peacock.
“I know,” said Spectre. “Just been sacked from another job.”
“Oh dear,” said Peacock. “What was it this time?”
“Garbage collector,” sighed Spectre. “I was a rubbish driver…”
~
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“That’s an odd-looking jacket,” said Bird.
“Yeah, Spectre got it for me,” replied Sprite.
“It looks like it’s made of flower stems,” said Bird.
“Yes,” said Sprite. “I didn’t like it at first, but then it grew on me…”
~
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Little Fears 