Monday, 27 April 2009

Medial Malleolus goes ashore

Medial Malleolus rose early, looked out of the porthole and saw that all was well. It struck him that it would be a lovely day for picking wild mushrooms, but first he would have to go ashore. A brief scull took him to his favourite beach, and as he pulled his raft above high water mark, he noticed curious footprints in the sludge.'Hmm, those are curious footprints in the sludge', he thought. As he picked his way through the land mines and dog eggs littering the beach, he whistled a merry dirge, mainly to confuse the vultures in the trees above. He found it difficult to walk in his flippers, and he wondered, not for the first time, why he had worn them to sail a raft. Still, never mind, they provided a 'slappy' percussive rhythm to the mournful ditty he was now singing.
When he reached his favourite mushroom plantation, he dropped to his kness and fell flat on his face due to the flippers he still wore. Whilst still picking loam from his nose, he became aware of a muttering sound nearby. Slowly sitting up, so as not to attract attention in the quiet woodland by causing his PVC lederhosen to squeak unnecessarily, MM squinted around. His varifocal milk bottles offered little by way of focus in the gloom, but still the muttering continued. The sound appeared to be coming from above. Tilting his head back, his wig fell off.
The sound was still indistinct. If he was a betting man, he would have wagered it was an off-colour rendition of 'Roll out the barrel', but no-one was allowed to sing it now in those parts, not after the great Greenall's Disaster of '67. Nonetheless, a big word starting with 'N' began the next sentence.
And then he saw them. Pine Tree Pixies.
'Roll out the barrel, roll out the barrel tonight,
Roll out the barrel, I can't quite fit in it, it's tight' wafted gently across the breeze to MM's hearing aid. They looked rather large for Pine Tree Pixies, thought MM. He squinted again.
If he didn't know better, he would have said the Pixies looked remarkably like Cool District Librarian and Public Relations Secretary.
The ditty continued. 'See you at the Clubhouse on the 12th' was not a recognised line in 'Roll out the barrel'. Then it struck him. It hurt, and knocked him flat on his ass. 'Don't throw things at me!' he yelled. '
Ah, sucks ya boo!' they replied.
It couldn't be Pine Tree Pixies. It had to be Cool DL and PRS. After all, pixies weren't invited to the Curryttee Meeting.

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