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Friday 21 December 2012

day sixty-three and a blue lamp


Winterbottom stumbled around on the Moon, looking up at Mother Earth. He could still see the lights of the Kola Nut Hotel, but now he could see for hundreds of kilometres around it. He was filled with a strange mixture of awe and aaarrghh!
What am I going to do?! he thought.
He wandered around on the Moon’s bright white surface, wondering if he would meet anyone else; he had heard of people being taken by the Moon, but never thought he would be one of them. Then he realised he had never heard of anyone returning from the Moon. He started to run crazily, taking long giant steps and leaps in the weak gravity, enjoying the strange sensation despite his panic.
Eventually he found himself on the dark side of the Moon and all he could see was the Milky Way above.... and a small blue lamp in the distance. He continued running and leaping towards the lamp. 
It can’t be! he thought as he got nearer. 
Winterbottom slowed down as he approached what looked like a small police-station.
I must be dreaming! he thought, as he stopped running and stood considering this new enigma.
He went up to the door of the police-station and rang the doorbell.
The door was opened by what was obviously a police officer, although Winterbottom had never seen one quite like this before. It had the look of a giant insect - definitely quite weird, but not appalling.
“Can I help you?” said the police-insect in a metallic voice.
“Err... yes!” said Winterbottom. “I’m lost!”
“Where do you want to go?”
“To the Kola Nut Hotel!” said Winterbottom.
“No hotels on the Moon,” said the police-insect.
“It’s on Mother Earth!” said Winterbottom, pointing in the direction he had come from. “Over there!”
“I see,” said the police-insect. “Come in.”
Winterbottom was led inside and found himself in a small, neat police office where another identical police-insect was sitting at a desk typing.
“Another one!” said the first police-insect.
“Fill in this form, please,” said the second officer, handing Winterbottom a small piece of yellow paper and a pencil. 
“I just want to know how to get back to Mother Earth,” said Winterbottom. “Can you....”
“Please fill in the form,” said the first police-insect.
Still befuddled, Winterbottom tried to fill in the form.



© David Severn 2012

Friday 14 December 2012

day sixty-three and a delivery


Capt. Cookie paced up and down anxiously in the hotel lobby. His co-pilot and stewardess had gone into the exotic garden the day before and not returned. And then his steward, Winterbottom, had been abducted by the Moon during the night. Now it was the next morning and the captain was waiting for the grocery blimp.
“It should be here soon!” said Miss Wu, the hotel manager.
Cookie went outside and looked up into the sky. 
Eventually, the grocery blimp appeared and McCluskey, the flying grocer, dropped the delivery; six boxes with small parachutes attached floated down to the ground. Capt. Cookie ran over to the spot where the boxes landed, followed by Skates with the hotel luggage cart. The captain opened the first box, coffee, and put it on the cart. He opened the second box, tea, and put it on the cart. The third box... cakemix. The fourth box... vegetables... the fifth box.... nuts...
“Must be this one!” said Cookie, opening the sixth box. Custard!
“Where’s the oil?!” he cried. “What about the oi....” 
“Look out!” cried Skates.
The captain looked up just as a seventh box landed on his head and knocked him unconscious.

“Oil?” said Capt. Cookie as he came round in the hotel lounge, where Miss Wu was trying to put a teaspoon of raspberry brandy in his beak.
“Yes! Ten bottles of cooking oil. That’s what hit you on the head!” said Wu.
“Good! Now I can get the airship going again. Have Temples and Singsong returned yet?” asked the captain.
“No, I’m afraid not,” said Wu, “but Tusks has gone to find them.”
“I see. Well, let’s hope he finds them before nightfall. I need my crew with me to rescue Winterbottom,” said Cookie.
“I’m sorry about what happened,” said Wu. “We’ve never had any guests abducted by the Moon before.”
“Nevermind,” said the captain. “I’ve heard stories about people disappearing like that, but I didn’t believe them. Now we know it’s true! Poor old Winterbottom! I hope he’s all right up there!”


© David Severn 2012

Wednesday 12 December 2012

day sixty-two and the moon


The next morning, everyone went down to breakfast (fish sausages, Kola Nut Hotel 's special tamarind sauce, flapjacks with sycamore syrup). Then the penguins, seals, sea-otters and the walrus spent the whole day playing in the pool, while Capt. Cookie and Lieutenant Temples, the co-pilot, went back to the airship to check everything. Skates, the bellboybird, took them in the hotel luggage cart and watched while they tested the instruments and tightened bolts etc. The captain had asked Miss Wu, the hotel manager, to order some catering-quality cooking oil from McCluskey, and they were expecting him to deliver it in the grocery blimp the next day. Wu had some high-octane extra virgin olive oil, but Capt. Cookie thought such rich stuff might spoil the engine.
Later on, in the afternoon, after the maintenance work was finished, Temples and Supervisor Singsong went for a walk in the hotel's exotic garden and got completely lost.
That evening, back in the hotel there was a bit of a commotion.
“Wildmouth, you monsterpiece!!” shouted Miss Wu. “You ate the harpsichord?”
“I was hungry - I thought it was a gazelle,” said Wildmouth. “Anyway, I only ate one or two legs.”
“Well, there are bite marks on the flank and neck too,” said Wu. ”And scratches all over the lid! It’s going to cost a lot to restore it to it’s former glory. Not to mention the trauma it must have suffered!”
“I’m sorry,” said Wildmouth. “I’ll pay for the restoration. Put it on my bill.”

Night fell, and Lieutenant Temples and Superviser Singsong were still wandering around in the exotic garden hopelessly lost. They spent the night in the garden, huddled together against the chill and lit by a bright moonlight.
The Moon was behaving eccentrically that night. It came down lower and lower, closer and closer, until it was just above the roof of the hotel, where the other two members of the airship’s crew were now sleeping. Capt. Cookie was fast asleep, but Commander Winterbottom, the steward, woke up and was shocked to see the Moon two or three  metres above him. Squinting in the white light, he stood up. He could feel the Moon gently pulling him. It was irresistable. He jumped up and then he was on the surface of the Moon! He held tight as it started to rise up again. He called to Capt. Cookie: “Sir! Skipper!”  The captain woke up with a start and couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Winterbottom!” shouted the captain. “Jump!”
Winterbottom was now standing on the bottom of the Moon with Mother Earth ten metres above him. He tried to jump but he couldn’t escape the Moon’s gravity. The Moon continued to rise.


Zhulian Wildmouth made his name as a young tearaway lion actor, when he portrayed Sir Charlton Boniface, the cross-dressing, water-skiing philanthropist. He is not in the spotlight now apart from the occasional guest appearance in a magic lantern show. Although his celebrity aura is now dimmed, critics are frightened of him after what happened to Snodgrass Twit, who had given him a bad review. (Similar treatment should be feared by anyone suggesting he might have let himself go.) He's a permanent guest at the Kola Nut Hotel.

© David Severn 2012

Friday 7 December 2012

day sixty-one and a surprise


The airship slowed down and down, and Capt. Cookie was forced to land. The crew and passengers all watched as the Moose Brothers’ Skycruiser continued unchallenged to the Kola Nut Hotel.
“Looks like we’re scuppered, skipper,” said the co-pilot.
“Mmm... if only we’d had a little more oil, we could have done it,” said the captain as they saw the Skycruiser approach the hotel...... and fly straight on!
“It’s not stopping after all!” cried the co-pilot.
“Ahem... Ladybirds and gentlebirdmen!” announced the captain into the microphone. “Please disembark and we will walk the short distance to the hotel. Please take all your belongings with you!”
“Hooray!” cheered all the passengers, flinging off their seatbelts and excitedly getting their luggage down from the overhead compartments.
When all the passengers had disembarked, the steward, Commander Winterbottom, and the stewardess, Supervisor Singsong, led the way to the hotel which was about a hundred-and-fifty metres away.
In the cockpit, Capt. Cookie and Lieutenant Temples did a few diagnostics and a bit of paperwork and then locked the airship and followed the others.
Ron was thrilled to be returning to the Kola Nut Hotel, where his adventure in the Chilly Peaks had all started when he pulled the rope that was dangling through the cocktail lounge window.
A bellboybird at the hotel saw them coming and went out to meet them. His name was Skates. He put all the passengers bags on a luggage trolley and led them into the hotel lobby, where the manager at the desk, Miss Wu, scrambled to find available rooms and spare hammocks for them all.  She put ten penguins together in one room and eight more in another. The seals and sea-otters shared a room and Fattum the walrus got a room to himself. Supervisor Singsong was given a single room and Capt. Cookie, Temples and Winterbottom were allocated the roof. Ron was accomodated on the patio with Fred and his spider friends.



© David Severn 2012

Thursday 6 December 2012

day sixty-one and a race


After what seemed like ages and ages and ages, the airship finally reached the edge of the swamp and the terrible shaking ceased.
“Damage report, please, Temples,” said Capt. Cookie.
“Y-y-es, c-c-ca-captain,” said the co-pilot, whose beak hadn’t quite recovered.
He checked the instruments in the cockpit, which had now all stopped malfunctioning.
“Fuel’s in the r-r-red, captain,” said the co-pilot.
“Let’s hope it’s enough to get us to the hotel!” said the captain. “Look, there it is!”
The Kola Nut Hotel was now visible in the distance, with the glittering blue sea beyond.
“Ladybirds and gentlebirdmen,” the captain announced. “We will soon be arriving at our destination. We hope you have had a pleasant flight with us today... I mean these last few days, and we look forward to having the pleasure of.......... Oh, cockle cobblers! I don’t believe it!”
The co-pilot was pointing up into the sky above them, where another airship was heading straight for the hotel.
“It’s a Moose Brothers’ Skycruiser,” said Capt. Cookie. “If it gets to the hotel first there’ll be no room left for us!”
“And the next hotel is a hundred kilometres away!” added the co-pilot, whose beak was now all right.
“Our passengers aren’t going to be very happy!” said the steward, who had come to the cockpit to see what was going on.
“Hold on!” said the captain, pushing the throttle forward. “Kola Nut or bust!”
The engine gasped and wheezed at the sudden urgency. The airship jerked forward and accelerated, pushing the passengers back into their seats. Cups toppled into laps. The puzzle pieces scattered down the aisle and under seats. The race was on! The prize: comfy hammocks, fish sausages with tamarind gravy for breakfast, good times in the pool and the cocktail bar!
They were now neck-and-neck with the Skycruiser, although it was up at an altitude of about thirty metres, whereas Capt. Cookie was still flying very low, just a few metres above the surface.
Just then, there was a loud grumble from the engine....... and then silence.
“Out of fuel, Captain,” said the co-pilot.

© David Severn 2012

Monday 26 November 2012

day sixty-one and the swamp


After escaping the burstificacious thistle forest, the airship was momentarily engulfed in a swarm of cardigan bugs. When that cleared, Capt. Cookie and the co-pilot, Lieutenant Temples could see the swamp just ahead. It was hard to judge it’s size from their elevation just two metres above the ground, but they decided it must be around the size of a small county; Caramelshire perhaps.
“Did McCluskey say anything about this swamp?” asked the co-pilot.
“Yes,” said the captain. ”He said we should go around it.”
“Good idea!” said the co-pilot.
“Yes, good idea,” said the captain. “But we haven’t got enough fuel. We’ll have to go straight across!”

Capt. Cookie knew that if the airship came down in the middle of the swamp there would be little chance of rescue or survival, but he pushed the joystick forward.
The air soon became damp and full of gnats and mosquitos. The engine coughed and wheezed. As they got further across the swamp, the airship’s instruments in the cockpit began to go haywire. Needles jumped around their dials and lights flashed at random. In the cabin the passengers held tight as their seats started shaking. They watched helplessly as the jigsaw puzzle pieces jiggled apart, breaking up the image of the Imperial Palace they had spent so long putting together. Soon the whole airship was shaking. The trembling went up Ron’s legs and spine, around his skull and out through his beak. The spiders walked around on their porthole web like drunken sailors on a night out. Even Sir Wellington Moonboots had never experienced anything like this before.
And there was still a long way to go.
“I don’t think the ship can stand much more of this!” said the co-pilot quaveringly.
“I’m not going to let her go down in this swamp!” said Capt. Cookie, reaching up to catch a bolt as it came out of the ceiling.

© David Severn 2012

Sunday 25 November 2012

day sixty-one and the giant thistle forest


In the airship’s cabin, the passengers held their breath as they looked out of the portholes at the prickly giant thistle leaves. Up above they could see the giant purple thistle heads. The jigsaw puzzle was still on the floor; almost complete now, apart from some tricky blue sky pieces.
It was dark in the thistle forest and Capt. Cookie switched on the front lamp. Giant moths the size of birds fluttered around the beam of light, sometimes crashing into the cockpit window.
An owl appeared. Capt. Cookie opened the window and called to it:
“Excuse me. Is it far?”
“It’s about three o’clock,” replied the owl.
“No, is it far to the end of the thistle forest?” said Cookie.
“No, thanks. I’ve just had lunch,” said the owl.
“Err... o.k. thanks for your help,” said the captain.
“Next Monday,” said the owl.
Capt. Cookie closed the window.
“I thought owls were supposed to be wise!” said the co-pilot.

Having committed to flying straight through the forest, they had no choice but to keep going, although the captain had to concentrate like mad to avoid touching the spiky giant thistles with the sides of the airship. Occasionally, a thistle prickle tickled the airship’s balloon, but luckily didn’t puncture it.
Eventually it started to become a little lighter and then all of a sudden they were out of the forest. The captain and co-pilot’s faces, which had been frozen in grimaces now thawed and a loud cheer came from the cabin: Hooray!
Captain Cookie switched on the windsceen wipers to remove moth-dust and visually checked the airship’s position. Then he picked up the microphone:
“Ladybirds and gentlebirdmen,” announced the captain. “Please remain seated with your seatbelts fastened, as we continue our flight to the Kola Nut Hotel. We expect to be arriving there by about tea-time.”
However, the captain didn’t tell the passengers that they now had to navigate a large swamp.

© David Severn 2012

Friday 23 November 2012

day sixty-one and the airship leaves the lake


A minute later, the egrets returned.
“Did you find the dinghy?” asked Capt. Cookie.
“Have you got the anchovies?” asked an egret.
“Yes, “ said the captain, showing them the four fillets on the tray.
“Great!” said the egrets.
 “The dinghy’s over that way, about one kilometre away,” said an egret. 
“Are my crew all right?” asked Cookie.
“Yes,” said an egret. “We told ‘em to wait there.”
“Thank you!” said the captain.
“You’re welcome!” said the egrets, scoffing the anchovies. “Right, follow us!”
Capt. Cookie gently swung the airship around and followed the egrets across the lake, just a metre or so above the waterlillies. Soon the dinghy came into view.
“Get them aboard, Winterbottom!” shouted the captain to the steward.
“Give them some pineapple and a blanket.”
The co-pilot and the stewardess got aboard the airship. They were a bit wobbly after spending the last few days floating in the dinghy.
The egrets flew off looking for more grub, and Capt. Cookie set a course for the thistle forest, still keeping the airship just above the surface of the lake.
Before long, the airship crossed the perimeter of the lake. As it continued, still at the same level, the co-pilot took his seat in the cockpit, next to the captain. 
“Our altitude is very low, captain,” said the co-pilot.
“Yes, I know. We’ve only got a little oil - just what I drained out of five tins of anchovy fillets,” said the captain.
“But we’ll have to climb to get over that thistle forest just ahead,” said the co-pilot.
“No, we’re going through it!” said the captain.
“Phwwuuuh!” said the co-pilot. “But one prick from one of those thistles and we’re going to burst!”
“I realise that, Temples,” said Cookie. “I’m not stupid!”

© David Severn 2012

Thursday 22 November 2012

day sixty-one and an anchovy


Capt. Cookie watched the four egrets fly off across the lake in different directions to look for the dinghy with the co-pilot and the stewardess aboard.
“Steward to cockpit, please!” he said into the microphone.
The steward entered the cockpit. “Aye, skipper?”
“Winterbottom, have you finished serving the anchovies?” asked the captain.
“Aye, skipper!” said the steward. “All the passengers have had one.”
“And how many are left?” asked the captain anxiously.
“Three, skipper,” said the steward, showing the captain his tray with three anchovy fillets on it. “One for you, one for me and one spare one.”
“I need four!” said the captain,
“You said one each, skipper!” said the steward.
“Not for me!” said the captain, “I did a deal with some egrets. Four of them. I promised to give them an anchovy each if they find the dinghy!”
“Oh!” said the steward. “Well, there’s only three, I’m afraid, skipper.”
The captain and the steward looked back into the cabin and saw all the passengers chewing and making Mmmm sounds. All but one. The walrus was just picking up his anchovy and opening his enormous mouth.
“Get that anchovy, Winterbottom!” cried Capt. Cookie.
The steward raced down the aisle of the cabin and whisked the anchovy out of the walrus’s flipper just before he closed his giant jaws.
“This anchovy’s tasteless!” said the walrus, chomping on nothing.
The steward put the anchovy on his tray and ran back to the cockpit.
“Got it, skipper!” he cried.
“Well done, Winterbottom!” said the captain. 

© David Severn 2012

Monday 12 November 2012

day sixty-one and egrets


“We’ve forgotten the dinghy!” said the steward. “With Lieutenant Temples and Superviser Singsong in it!”
“Ah,” said the captain. “Yes. Mmm. Ah. Exactly. I thought something was different,” he said, looking at the empty co-pilot’s seat next to his in the cockpit. “No need to panic.”
An egret flew past the front of the cockpit. Capt. Cookie opened the window and called out “Excuse me!”
The egret came and perched on the window frame.
“How-do!” said the egret.
“Good morning!” said the captain. “Have you by any chance seen a dinghy!”
“What does it look like?” asked the egret.
“It’s orange. There are two of my crew on board,” said Cookie.
“And what do they look like?” asked the egret.
“Well, one’s wearing a cap and an airline blazer with two gold stripes around the cuffs, and the other one’s wearing a kind of bonnet and a silk scarf, the regulation airline uniform.”
Another egret came and perched on the window frame with a frog in it’s mouth.
“Gulp!” said the second egret, swallowing the frog. “What’s happening?”
“This chap’s lost his dinghy,” said the first egret. “It’s red.”
“More orange, really,” said the captain. “Have you seen it?”
“Got any grub?” said the second egret. “Anything to eat?”
Another egret came.
“Grub? Who’s got some grub?” asked the third egret.
“This bloke’s lost an orange,” said egret two.
“No, a dinghy! An orange dinghy,” said the captain.
“The grub’s in the dinghy, is it?” said egret three.
“There’s no grub in the dinghy!” said the captain. “Just two of my crew! Have you seen them?”
“No grub?” said egret three. “This is a waste of time, lads!” said the third egret.
Another egret came.
“What’s going on?” it said. 
“This man hasn’t got any grub after all!” said egret three.
“Shocking!” said the fourth egret.
“Have you seen an orange dinghy?” asked Captain Cookie, exasperatedly.
“No, mate,” said egret four. ”We’re generally looking for grub,” said egret four. “A bird’s got to eat, you know!”
“Can you go and look for it for me? It’s somewhere on this lake,” said the captain.
The four egrets looked at the captain and then looked at each other.
“It’s a big lake,” said egret one.
“If you find the dinghy, I promise I’ll give you some food..er..some grub!” said the captain.
“What kind of grub?” said egret two. “You said you didn’t have any!”
“Yeah, not frogs!” said egret two. “I’ve had my fill of frogs, I have!”
“How about anchovies?” said the captain.
“Anchovies!?” shouted all the egrets together.
“Yes, if you find my dinghy, I’ll give you an anchovy fillet each!”
“Right! said egret four. “What does this dinghy look like?”
“It’s orange” said egret two.
“It’s got two geezers in it, wearing funny clothes,” said egret one.
“Give us five minutes!” said egret three.
“Get the anchovies ready!” said egret four.
And the egrets flew off.

© David Severn 2012

Saturday 10 November 2012

day sixty-one and directions


“Only five?!” shouted Capt. Cookie through the megaphone to Siberia McCluskey in the grocery blimp.
“Yes,” said McCluskey.
“Well, all right, can we have them, please?” said the captain.
The five small tins of anchovies in oil were lowered down to the airship in the net. There was also a bundle of mint. 
“Free sample!” shouted McCluskey.
“Thank you very much!” shouted the captain. “Oh, and by the way,” he dropped his voice to a whisper again, “Which way is it to the Kola Nut Hotel? Do you know?”
“Yes, it’s that way,” said McCluskey, leaning out of the blimp’s gondola and pointing across the lake. “Turn left when you get to the thistle forest and go straight untill you come to a big swamp, which you’d better go around, and then keep going straight and then you’ll see the hotel on your left, just after the kiosk.”
“.... on your left, just after the kiosk,” mumbled Captain Cookie, making a mental note. “Right, thanks!”
Capt. Cookie took the tins into the cockpit and opened them all, pouring the fishy oil into a hole in the airship’s engine, which he had accessed by opening a little door in the floor. He drained every last drop of oil into the hole and then handed the tins to the steward. 
“Share the anchovies out, would you, Winterbottom? One fillet per passenger. Just enough to go round by the look of it.”
“Aye-aye, skipper!” said the steward.
The captain took a deep breath and turned the key in the ignition. Uhch-uhh-uhh-uhh-uhh-uh-uh-h-h-hhh...  No good. Uhch-uhh-uhh-uhh-uhh-uh-uh-RRM-rm-rm-rm-mh-mh-mmmmmmmmm.  The engine started!
Right! Not a moment to lose! thought the captain. He opened the window and shouted up to McCluskey in the blimp, ”Thank you very much!”
“You’re welcome!” shouted McCluskey, starting to manoeuvre out ot the way.
Ron went to the airship’s door and shouted, “When you go to the Chilly Peaks, please drop in at the Soup Shack and tell Benny we’re all o.k.!”
“Righto!” said McCluskey.
The blimp floated away and Capt. Cookie opened the throttle as gently as he could and lifted the airship off the surface of the lake. However, having considered the small amount of oil thay now had, Capt. Cookie decided to fly at low altitude, just above the ground in fact. This way he would not waste any fuel climbing into the air or pushing against winds.
“We are very sorry for the delay, birdladies and gentlebirdmen, but we will now be on our way,” he announced.
There was a loud cheer in the cabin: Hoooray!
Then the steward, who was serving the anchovies, suddenly ran to the cockpit.
“Skipper! We’ve forgotten something!” he blurted.

© David Severn 2012

Friday 9 November 2012

day sixty-one and anchovies


“It’s the blimp!” shouted Ron. “It’s the blimp! The grocery blimp!”
The penguins and everybody all rushed to that side of the cabin to look. It was a long way away but it was definitely the grocery blimp.
There was great excitement. 
“We’re saved!” cried the penguins and other passengers, as they watched the blimp slowly get nearer and nearer. 
Eventually, the blimp come right up to about ten metres from the airship and Capt. Cookie opened the door and shouted through a megaphone, “Good morning! Mayday, Mayday! S.O.S.!”
The grocer-pilot, whose name was Siberia McCluskey, leaned out of the window of the blimp with a megaphone and shouted, “What are you doing here? Are you all right?” 
“We got a bit lost,” Capt. Cookie tried to whisper through the megaphone. And then loudly, “Yes, we’re all right! But we are stuck and we need some food! Can you give us some? Anything except frozen peas or scampi in breadcrumbs would be fine!”
“Herbs,” said McCluskey. “I have a lot of herbs today.“
“Nnurr,” sighed the passengers, who were all listening.
“Sage, thyme, rosemary, basil, taragon etc. All very fresh .... no good?” said McCluskey.
“Anything else?” asked Cookie.
“Err... let me think....” said McCluskey. “String.”
“Hhhk,” coughed everybody.
“Anything else?” said Cookie.
“Pineapples,” said McCluskey.
“Pineapples!” shouted everybody. 
“We’ll take the pineapples, please!” said the captain.
The hatch underneath the grocery blimp’s gondola opened and a net full of pineapples was lowered down. The captain and the steward grabbed it and took them all out.
“Got any oil?” shouted the captain to McCluskey.
“Oil?” said McCluskey. ”No, sorry, I haven’t got any oil today.”
“Uunnhhh,” said everybody.
“Are you sure you haven’t got even a little bit of oil?” asked the captain desparately.
“Well...” said McCluskey. “I have got some small tins of anchovies in oil, but they are a special order for the Imperial Palace!”
“I don’t think the Emperor would mind,” said Capt. Cookie. “I’ll write a note to explain everything. How many tins have you got?”
“Five,” said McCluskey.

© David Severn 2012