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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

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